


El Corazón del Lobo

by heartsdesire456



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Amnesiac Stiles, Angst, Artist Derek, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Fake/Pretend Relationship (sort of), Future Fic, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Romance, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 19:51:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsdesire456/pseuds/heartsdesire456
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Derek drove back into Beacon Hills on a Tuesday morning seven years after he had left it last with one single thought:</i>
</p><p><i></i>“Why am I doing this?”<i></i></p><p>
  <i>But in his heart, Derek knew exactly why. </i>
</p><p>(In which Stiles suffers temporary memory loss and any serious emotional trauma could give him permanent damage so Scott calls Derek to come back and fake like he and Stiles are still together so that Stiles can heal)</p>
            </blockquote>





	El Corazón del Lobo

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Сердце волка](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7683535) by [JuliaJulia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaJulia/pseuds/JuliaJulia), [tatianatiana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatianatiana/pseuds/tatianatiana)



> This fic hurts. 
> 
> No, seriously. It HURTS! 
> 
> I admit, reading it, you guys may not feel the same pain I did writing it because, as most of us know, the author-character bond is REALLY extreme. However, I will openly say, I cried so much writing this and I felt SO GUILTY at one point over what I had done to Derek that I couldn't sleep for the guilt.
> 
> The title is just as cheesy as could be, I know, but Derek's nom de plume being what it is (no spoilers) and me being a Spanish major, I couldn't resist!
> 
> I don't have a playlist uploaded, but in case you were wondering what I listened to to fuel this painful fic, here is my playlist for this fic: (in no order, I shuffled it through about 20 times)
> 
> On My Own- The Used  
> One Headlight- The Wallflowers  
> So Far Away- Avenged Sevenfold  
> This Will Make You love Again- I Am X  
> Stop Crying Your Heart Out- Oasis  
> The Nobodies- Marilyn Manson  
> Live Forever (Fly With me)- Gym Class Heroes  
> I Will Follow You Into The Dark- Deathcab for Cutie  
> What Hurts The Most- Rascal Flatts  
> Hard To Say- The Used  
> Stay- Rihanna  
> Plastic Man- Seether  
> Can't Let You Go- Adam Lambert  
> Hurt- Johnny Cash  
> The Lovesong Writer- Thursday  
> Running To The Edge of the World- Marilyn Manson  
> And The World Was Gone- Snow Ghosts  
> Blue Monday- Flunke  
> Far Too Young To Die- Panic! At The Disco  
> End Of All Things- Panic! At The Disco  
> Into The Fire- Marilyn Manson  
> Sail- AWOLNATION

Derek drove back into Beacon Hills on a Tuesday morning seven years after he had left it last with one single thought:

_“Why am I doing this?”_

But in his heart, Derek knew exactly why. 

~

Derek had been asleep on the floor in his studio after a marathon twenty-one straight hours painting that ended in him not even making it to the couch in the corner before he fell asleep, utterly exhausted, when his phone rang. He woke up so fast he was disoriented for a moment. Derek _never_ got phone calls. The only time his phone rang was when his agent was on the phone and she scheduled every single call and stuck to that schedule. Unexpected calls had only happened twice since he had been back in Brooklyn: once when Cora called to let him know her final decision was to stay with ‘her pack’ instead of come live with him after a planned one month apart, and once when Cora’s alpha called to tell him one year and four months later that Cora had been killed in a car accident.

Needless to say, this unexpected ringing of Derek’s phone sent fear through his body like a crashing wave of dread. He didn’t have any idea what it could be. His first thought was that Peter had died and whatever pack he had joined up to was calling him to pass along the word. As much as he still hated Peter somewhat for what he had done, and even though he hadn’t so much as spoke to Peter in seven years, he still panicked at the thought of the actual _last_ family member he had dying. It was actually the only thing he could imagine anyone calling him about. A tiny part of him almost hoped it was Isaac. He hadn’t spoken to Isaac in the same seven years, but even if he was a beta – really an omega – now, Isaac was still _his_ beta. The only one who had survived. He would always have a strong connection with Isaac, no matter how long they were apart. There was a small part of him that hoped so hard that it was Isaac calling him to say he was leaving Scott and wanted to come be with Derek. It was selfish, but Derek had been an omega for seven years. The only reason he had clung to any part of his sanity and curbed the omegas bloodlust was the fact that his anchor was still as strong as ever. 

When he got to his phone, as expected, he didn’t recognize the number. He wasn’t surprised. He only had one contact in his phone, and it was his Agent. When he took the call, he held his breath without even saying hello, almost too afraid to actual answer. There was a hesitation across the line before a voice spoke finally. “Derek? Is this you? We had to trace you with some phone record hacking, so I’m sorry if this is someone else-“

“Scott?” Derek asked, his heart dropping. 

“Derek!” Scott sounded far too relieved for Derek’s taste. “Thank God! It has taken me three days to get this number-“

“Why are you calling me?” Derek asked with a frown. “What could you possibly need from me after seven years that’s so urgent you had someone _track me down_?” he asked suspiciously.

Scott hesitated and Derek heard a mutter in the background that sounded like Isaac. Derek’s mild levels of relief at hearing his beta’s voice and knowing he was still there was cut short by the next words out of Scott’s mouth. “Derek, it’s Stiles.”

Suddenly all of the air rushed from the room. Derek’s chest constricted from the onslaught of memories he had repressed, thoughts he had held at bay, and visions of every possible scenario that could put those words in Scott’s mouth after all these years. Derek didn’t even realize Scott was still talking as the room began to spin and everything went black around the edges, his vision constricting to pinpricks, and his ears began to ring deafeningly as he stumbled to the couch he had got his phone from, falling heavily into the cushions. “S-Stiles?” Derek grated out, voice rougher than it had been when he’d answered the phone. “Fuck,” Derek gasped as his tunnel vision worsened and he fell to the side, consciousness fading to the tinny sound of Scott calling his name repeatedly from the phone discarded near his shoulder.

~

The first person Derek ran into was the last person he had expected to find waiting when he returned to Beacon Hills. Peter was waiting outside the hospital entrance for Derek. Peter was standing by the doorway when Derek parked his rental. When he reached the entrance, Peter stepped up to meet him. “You flew. Funny, I thought you hated flying,” he said in lieu of a greeting. 

Derek gave him a flat look. “Just don’t.”

Peter fell into step with Derek as they walked into the hospital. “I’m surprised you even came. Seven years without a word. I almost figured you had died, but I thought I’d have got a call from Cora about it if you did.”

Derek’s steps faltered and Peter turned back. “Wha-“ Peter stopped and his mouth tightened. “Where is Cora?” he asked, looking as if he already knew the answer to that.

Derek closed his eyes, swallowing. “Car accident. Five and a half years ago,” he said weakly. He looked up and met Peter’s haunted eyes. “I should’ve called. Or wrote. But I didn’t know where you went. I didn’t know you were still in Beacon Hills or how to reach you-“

“No, I understand,” Peter said tightly. He pushed his hair back from his eyes. It was longer than it had been the last time Derek saw him. “Well. I’m sorry,” he said softly, and Derek nodded.

“Me too.” He cleared his throat, then continued walking. “So… you’re still here.” Derek looked at Peter, who chuckled.

“Yes, I am.” He smirked deviously, looking ahead instead of at Derek. “You’re going to hate me for this one,” he said, holding up his left hand. 

Derek glanced at it, then did a double take when he saw the _wedding ring_ on his uncle’s hand. “You’re _married_?!”

Peter nodded. “Yep. Almost a year now.”

Derek hummed, trying to process the information. “Who is she? I’m presuming a human?”

“He is,” Peter said, glancing at Derek, who raised an eyebrow. Peter scoffed. “What? Like you have room to judge-“

“Since _when_?” Derek asked with a frown. “You never seemed-“

“Well I wasn’t,” Peter said simply, shrugging. “Sometimes you find love where you least expect it.”

Derek sighed. “Don’t I know it.” When they rounded a corner, he slowed nearly to a stop when he saw Scott, Stiles’s father, and Chris Argent all standing outside of a hospital room. “God, what am I doing here,” Derek muttered to himself.

Peter chuckled and slapped him on the back. “I’ve wondered the same thing since Scott called you.”

“Peter.” They both looked back at Scott calling Peter’s name. Scott waved his hand at them and they made their way over. When they got close enough, Scott gave Derek a smile. It was almost disconcerting to see how much Scott still looked like a teenager. “Derek, it’s good to see you again,” he said with a genuine smile. It dimmed some as he glanced at the door. “Also, I’m really sorry-“

“Just don’t,” Derek said tightly, shaking his head. He looked at the other men and fought the urge to run and hide when he met John’s eyes. “Sheriff,” he said shortly.

John eyed him with less judgment in his eyes than Derek expected. He could almost swear that was _sympathy_ he saw. “Derek. Good to see you, Son,” he said and Derek gave him a short nod. 

Scott looked at Peter, then at Derek with a small frown. “Did something happen?” he asked, eyes sparkling red for a moment.

Peter stiffened beside Derek some and Derek ducked his head momentarily. “I- I didn’t know where Peter went after… well, when I left.” He looked up and met Scott’s eyes. “So he didn’t know Cora wasn’t with me anymore.”

Scott frowned. “Not with…” He trailed off and paled. “Oh. Crap, when?” Scott asked with eyes full of sympathy. He was still so _expressive_ , Derek noted. 

“Five and a half years ago,” Derek answered. “Car accident. But… she wasn’t living with me anyhow. She went back to her pack when we left.”

“Jesus, Peter.” Derek glanced up when he heard a surprisingly gentle lilt to Chris Argent’s voice. His eyes widened slightly when he saw Chris reach out and slid his hand down Peter’s shoulder and pull him closer by his wrist before sliding their fingers together. “I’m so sorry.”

Peter gave him a sad smile. “I’m fine, Dear.” He looked at Derek. “Derek didn’t know how to contact me. I understand fully.” Derek raised a pointed eyebrow at him and Peter smirked. “Told you you’d be surprised.”

Chris seemed to realize what he meant, then smiled, chuckling. “Oh yeah, this must be quite a shock,” he said, sliding his hand to rest on Peter’s lower back. 

Derek just made a face. “Just figured you had better taste than that, Mr. Argent,” he said and Peter scoffed at Derek’s claim.

“Alright, so the doctor says-“ Derek looked up and Melissa McCall actually stopped and took a step back in shock. “Oh God, Derek!” she gasped as a hand flew up to cover her mouth. “God, I didn’t think you would actually come!” She walked over quickly and pulled him into a surprising hug. “It’s good to see you, Kid.”

Derek awkwardly patted her shoulder. “Hi.”

John cleared his throat. “You were saying something when you walked up?” he asked, and she pulled back, nodding.

“Good news, that’s what I have,” she said with a relieved smile. “The ‘brain injury’ is already healing. It could be healed within a week or two. Meaning his amnesia should be gone when it’s healed.” She gave a John a pointed look. “Although with the ‘injury’ we can add a possible extra week or so. His body is fine, it’s just what the ‘trauma’ did to his brain.”

John nodded with a sad smile. “That’s great.”

Melissa looked around at them. “Can I talk to Derek for a second?” she asked them, hooking an arm though his. 

John and Scott shared a look and Scott nodded at the room. “We’re gonna go on in.”

Chris glanced at Peter, who gave Melissa a smile. “We’re just going to go. We need to not to stress him out, after all.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to you guys later,” Melissa said, then pulled Derek away from the door some as the others either left or went inside. She walked over to a bench and sat down with Derek. “Alright, lay it on me, how prepared for this are you?” she asked.

Derek closed his eyes, letting his head drop back. “So not at all,” he admitted. It was strange how soothing Melissa’s presence always had been. After the pack had settled into its new form, Melissa had been around more. At first Derek felt awkward with her, but she seemed to group him in with the teenagers and before too long, their relationship had grown more comfortable. Melissa treated him like one of the kids and he thought of her almost like a mother-figure. When things fell apart, he had missed her more than anyone other than Stiles. She had always had a special place in his heart. 

She patted his arm. “I figured.” She looked at him closely. “I don’t trust the others to have given you a full rundown, so let me explain for you in case you don’t know it all well enough.” She curled their hands together on her lap. “Stiles’s trauma is magical.”

He nodded. “Scott said.” He chuckled dryly. “He’s their Emissary isn’t he?” He shook his head. “What did I say-“

“This is far from the worst thing to happen, baby,” she said gently, earning a surprised look. “Derek, Stiles has nearly died three times. Why do you think his father looks so weary now? This is the least of those. It’s just that this time he doesn’t remember anything from the past seven and a half years.”

Derek nodded. “Where does his memory stop?” he asked. “So I know what he knows and what he doesn’t.”

She hummed. “I’m not sure. He remembers the summer after they graduated but not that fall. He can’t remember what ‘date’ it was that he last remembers, but I’m assuming somewhere in July.” She looked at Derek. “Is that good enough?”

“Yes. That’s only a month before I left,” he said and she sighed.

“God. This is so horrible. I’m so sorry we’re doing this to you-“

Derek shook his head. “If the emotional trauma could make him worse like Scott said, I’m- I’m not okay with it, but I’m willing to do it.” He snorted. “No matter what happened, I don’t want him to be permanently messed up.”

Melissa smiled sadly. “Yeah, Deaton said that he should be fine but that any serious reactions while he’s healing could set him back. Maybe not permanently erase the last seven years, but bad enough he’ll have problems.” She looked at him. “This is going to suck, okay?” Derek chuckled, smiling at her. “I’m serious. My ex-husband as a piece of shit but every damn time I see him it hurts like hell. I hate that bastard but it’s never easy when he comes around. No matter what happened, seeing him is going to suck. You need to know that and I don’t want it sugarcoated for you because you have to prepare yourself. If you mess this up, it could permanently damage Stiles and we love him.” She patted his forearm. “Okay?”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He looked across the hall and sighed. “Ready to do this? Cause I’m not.”

She laughed. “I’ll be right there with you,” she said, standing up and tugging at his hand until he stood. “Time to be a hero again, Kid,” she said, leading him towards the door across the hall. 

Derek took a breath and sighed. “Here goes nothing,” he said softly, watching as she opened the door.

~

Nothing had prepared Derek for the moment he saw Stiles. He had imagined it over and over, in every possible scenario, for years. He had thought a thousand times of what he would say and do when he first saw him on the flight there. He had tried to imagine what he would look like now, what his voice would be like, what he would _smell_ like. 

But nothing compared to the moment Derek walked into the hospital room and Stiles’s eyes met his immediately. Derek didn’t even get a chance to glance around because the first thing he saw was those same cinnamon eyes he had painted a thousand times and looked into a thousand times more all those years ago. “Derek! Thank _God_!” Stiles said with a tired smile from his spot lying in the hospital bed. “I was starting to think they were lying to me and you had died or something,” he said, chuckling as he held up his hand towards the door. 

Derek had to fight to keep his breath steady and his face in a perfect mask of a smile. Nothing was harder than to fake like he wasn’t falling apart behind his wall. Derek ignored the three sets of eyes on him as he walked over and pulled up the empty chair up to the bedside and sat beside Stiles. “Hey, Stiles,” he said in the hardest to control steady voice he’d ever had to force. “How do you feel?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, other than them telling me I’ve missed like _seven years_ ,” he stressed, smiling wearily. “A little tired, but that’s it.”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, you look it,” he said, taking in the bags under Stiles’s eyes. They were really the only sign that anything was wrong with his otherwise youthful face. His jaw had squared up some since he was eighteen, but otherwise, he looked much the same at twenty-five as he had when Derek saw him last. His hair was shorter than it had been at eighteen – nearly as short as the buzz cut he had had when they first met – but there wasn’t a single difference in his face from what Derek could tell.

Stiles smiled faintly, eyes roving over Derek’s face. “Man, it’s so weird. You _look_ older. I mean, you’re a werewolf so obviously you haven’t aged too much, but like…” He reached up and Derek tensed, fighting every urge that told him to flinch away as Stiles touched his face, on the sides of his eyes. “You’ve got lines here. Not really wrinkles, just… lines.” He smiled and looked Derek’s face over. “Hair’s longer, too,” he said, reaching up to push at the messy strands of Derek’s hair that stood up in some places. “Something’s wrong with your eyes, though,” he said softly, frowning slightly as he looked into Derek’s eyes. A concerned look crossed his features and he cupped Derek’s face in his hand. “Why are they so empty?” he mumbled more to himself than Derek.

“Probably cause he’s been worried about you, man!” Scott said, giving Derek a forced smile. “Right, Derek?”

Derek nodded, smiling. “Definitely. Just worried. It’s scary what happened to you.”

Stiles snorted. “Scary to you? I’m the one who has seven years missing. I’m lucky I didn’t wake up to find out I was alone now,” he said, looking at his dad and Scott pointedly. 

“Nah, we’re all still here,” Scott said, patting at Stiles’s leg ankle under the overs. “And you’ll remember soon enough.”

Stiles hummed, then shrugged. “As long as I _do_ remember,” he said, looking at Derek. “Seven years missing is way too much. I don’t even know what our life is like now.” He looked at Scott and Derek was allowed to close his eyes against the sting of Stiles referring to them having a _life_ together. “So hey, what all have I missed? I mean, any big changes?” he asked and Derek glanced up, wondering how Scott would handle that. They couldn’t tell him anything that would make him have too big of an emotional response; that was the whole reason Derek was back. 

Scott hummed. “Well, wanna take a wild guess who Danny has been dating for the past four years?” he asked and Stiles frowned.

“You?” he asked, looking alarmed.

Scott laughed. “No! I’m married to Allison, not Danny!” he said, and Derek jerked, looking up at Melissa, who smiled and nodded. 

Stiles gaped. “Dude, you got married?! That’s so cool!” he said with a bright smile. “Good for you, buddy! I didn’t think you would ever get over her, so I’m glad you guys got back together in the end. That’s great.” He hummed. “So who’s Danny’s boyfriend?”

Scott grinned. “Isaac,” he said and Stiles smirked.

“Totally called that one,” he said confidently, but Derek was shocked and had to fight to hide it. He had no idea Isaac liked men – much like he hadn’t known Peter did – and he had never expected Isaac to end up with _Danny_. He was actually surprised Danny was still around. “Isaac used to totally sneak looks at Danny in the locker room,” he said to Derek, who chuckled.

“Well, they’re good together,” he said, glancing at Scott in hopes he was saying the right thing. Scott just nodded.

“Yeah dude, Danny and Isaac are so adorable together. It’s gross how sweet,” he said.

Stiles hummed, shrugging. “I’m shocked it took them so long. Only four years, you say?” He grinned. “So how long have you been _married_?! Do you have _kids_?” he asked, then made a face. “Ew, you as a dad. Horrifying to imagine.”

Scott shook his head. “No, no kids yet. But we got married three years ago. We got back together about six months after what you can remember, we tried the whole ‘casual’ thing for a few months cause we weren’t sixteen anymore, but we just worked this time. Only reason it took so long for us to get married is ‘cause I was too big of a wimp to ask her,” he said.

Melissa chuckled. “Trust me, Stiles, they’d still be just dating if she hadn’t taken it out of his hands and asked him to marry her,” she said and Stiles barked out a laugh.

“Oh God, I can see that!” He looked at Melissa and his dad. “What about you two? Finally got together?” he asked and John rolled his eyes and Melissa chuckled, reaching out to slap his leg.

“Shut up, no matter how much you and Scott want to be brothers, we’re not getting together. Deal with it,” she said and Stiles made a face.

“Why the hell not? I know you’re a beautiful woman but Dad’s… well, he’s not _that_ bad, don’t you think?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Your Christmas cards would be adorable!”

John chuckled. “Yeah, I’m sure they would, but her doctor friend would have something to say about that,” he said and Melissa smirked at Stiles.

Stiles whistled. “Damn, no dude, totally don’t worry about the Christmas cards. Doctors can buy you nice things. By all means, date a doctor,” he said.

Melissa smiled, walking over to the bedside. “I’ll be sure to tell him you approve,” she said, then leaned in to kiss his forehead. “I need to get back to work, sweetheart. You rest up, okay?”

He nodded, smiling. “I’m not going anywhere today,” he said, watching her as she left. He looked at his father and Scott. “So, how does it look?” he asked.

John waved a hand. “You’ll be fine. Just a couple weeks to wait for your brain to repair the damage so your memory can return. You get to leave the hospital tomorrow, even.”

Stiles hummed. “So, what happened exactly? I mean, why did the magic zap me not one of you guys?”

Scott rubbed at his neck awkwardly. “Well, you were doing a spell and the witch didn’t like that. So she got you not us. We killed her, but it was too late.”

Stiles frowned. “Why was I doing the spells?” He blinked, then brightened up. “Wait, am I your Emissary now?” he asked, and Scott nodded. “Sweet!” He smiled at Derek. “Remember when I said I wanted to train to be an Emissary?”

Derek fought against everything inside of him that wanted to bolt, and he nodded. “Yeah, you were really adamant,” he said without even having to lie.

John’s phone rang and he looked at it. “Ah crap. Gotta go,” he said, then walked over, leaning down to hug Stiles as best he could. “I gotta run, Kid. I’ll be back later, though,” he said and Stiles shrugged.

“It’s okay, duty calls.” Stiles watched as his dad left then turned to Scott. “So dude, what all have I missed? What’s going on now?” he asked. “Did I go to college? Where did I go to college? Did you go to college?” 

Scott chuckled. “You went to Berkeley with Danny,” he said and Stiles gaped.

“Holy shit, last I remember I hadn’t even told anyone I got accepted!” he exclaimed.

“You both got degrees in computer science. You’re web designers,” he said and Derek tamped down a flare of _something_ in his gut as he wondered if maybe Isaac wasn’t the first one of the group to date Danny. “You guys work together. You’ve got a pretty good business and it gives you all the time you need to be our Emissary.”

“COOL!” Stiles exclaimed, fist pumping. “What about you dude?”

Scott beamed. “Dude, I went to veterinary school and I’m a vet now! Deaton retired two years ago and I took over for him. I’m the main veterinarian in Beacon Hills now.” He paused, counting off on his fingers. “Isaac didn’t go to college, but he opened a coffee shop with the insurance money he got when he turned eighteen, Allison teaches high school history, Chris retired from all the money he had from the weapons dealing business, Peter’s a writer- oh! And Lydia works for _NASA_!” he said and Stiles laughed.

“Dude, really?! I knew she’d end up somewhere awesome, but NASA? Doing what?!” he asked.

“Jet propulsion design. She’s like the head of her department. She’s doing great out there,” Scott said brightly. “Mom’s boyfriend doesn’t even understand some of the stuff she says when she comes to visit on the holidays.”

Stiles sighed. “Man, things sound pretty great,” he said, then frowned. “Wait, Peter is a _writer_?! He’s not _dead_?” He sighed, shaking his head. “Such a shame.” Derek knew that they weren’t mentioning Chris and Peter being married, because that was a shock that Stiles _definitely_ didn’t need. He slid his hand into Derek’s, squeezing. “What’s Cora up to?” he asked, and Derek forced a smile.

“Lives with her pack. She went back to stay with them.” He knew better than to say more. Stiles gave him a sympathetic pout.

“I’m sorry,” he said, stroking his thumb along Derek’s knuckles. “What about you, huh? What do you do now?” He smirked. “My kept man?” he joked, then frowned. “Wait… are _we_ married?” he asked innocently.

It was almost enough to break Derek’s resolve. It was a simple question, a natural one, but something in Derek jerked, almost like something had reached into him, grabbed his insides, and _yanked_. All he could see in his mind was him and Stiles getting married, them on their wedding day, what their life would be like as a married couple. A warm, happy home. Books everywhere mixed in with stray video games would cover every flat surface. Hell, they might even have _kids_ for all Derek could imagine. Derek would have a studio full of paintings of their kids and Stiles with their kids and holidays full of family and warm, happy laughter.

Everything Derek’s life _wasn’t_.

Derek swallowed the bile rising in his throat and forced a calm façade to hide his inner turmoil. He shook his head. “No, I’m an artist,” he said and Scott sat up straighter in the corner of his vision. 

Stiles blinked. “Wait, you do art?” he asked with a frown.

Derek took a breath and nodded, revealing something he hadn’t yet. “Yeah. I paint,” he said and Stiles smiled sweetly.

“That’s kind of adorable. When did you start doing that? I don’t remember ever seeing you do anything artistic.” He looked at Derek closely. “Was it when I went to college? That must’ve sucked for us.” He groaned. “I cannot imagine going without seeing you right now. Like, the last two days have been torture. Where even were you, by the way?”

Derek cringed. “I was- I was painting. I was freaked out after the magic stuff. I just wasn’t in a good place,” he lied quickly. “And yes. I used to paint when I was younger,” he said honestly. “After the fire, I started painting. It was good therapy I think. I stopped after Laura died.” He quickly thought up a lie. “But without you around, I was bored so I picked it up again. Sold a few paintings then suddenly people wanted more and I somehow ended up being a real artist.”

Stiles smiled at him. “Wow, that’s really cool,” he said, sighing. “My boyfriend, the painter,” he said, then frowned. “Is it boyfriend? You never answered, are we married?”

Derek shook his head. “No, not married,” he said tightly.

Stiles nodded, then frowned again. “Wait, why not? We’ve been together for eight years, why aren’t we married?” he asked, looking confused. “That doesn’t seem like me.”

Scott jumped in. “You were in college for five years, and things got a little tough for a while at the end, but then when you moved home things started to get better and you guys took it a day at a time for a little while. Also when you moved in together first, you didn’t have any money for a wedding so you figured ‘why not wait’ and you just haven’t ever took the time to get married yet.”

Stiles hummed and Derek held his breath, hoping he’d buy it. “Yeah, that makes sense,” he said, then smirked at Derek. “Still haven’t made an honest man out of me, huh?” he asked, reaching up to touch Derek’s cheek. “Bad enough we didn’t make it until I was eighteen before we started sleeping together, but now we’ve been living in sin for years?” he teased and Scott snickered at his antics. “Well you do already look like trouble,” he said and Derek fixed a smile on his face.

“I guess the predictable life never suited me,” he said and Stiles smiled shyly, grinning up at Derek. “What?” Derek asked, unable to fight his curiosity.

Stiles bit his lip almost bashfully. “I just keep thinking that my skinny, annoying little shit self has been waking up next to someone as gorgeous as you for years now.” His eyes roved over Derek’s face, almost as if he was searching for something. “I always thought you would get tired of me one day, you know? Last I remember I was just waiting for the day you would look at me and realize who you were with and finally realize you could do so much better. My biggest fear wasn’t dying, it was knowing that one day I’d look you in the eyes and you wouldn’t look at me like someone you love.” He smiled and shook his head. “It’s just incredible to think that you still look at me just like that even after all these years,” he muttered softly.

Derek felt more than saw Scott look over. He knew that Scott had to be surprised, but Derek wasn’t. Derek hadn’t expected Stiles to notice, but he knew the minute he agreed to come back that if there was any truth in the world, Derek had one, unshakable, never-changing truth.

Stiles Stilinski was and always would be the love of Derek’s life and nothing would ever erase Stiles’s name from Derek’s heart. 

Derek closed his eyes as Stiles’s finger slid down the slope of his nose and he fought to keep his composure. “Incredible is one word for it,” Derek said softly.

Stiles made a pleased sound and Derek didn’t have to open his eyes to know Stiles was smiling. “Mmm, yeah.”

~

After Stiles fell asleep, Derek excused himself. Scott found him ten minutes later in the parking lot, squatting down beside his car, hands over his mouth as he stared into space with an almost terrified expression of unease. Scott walked over and Derek spotted him and stood. “Derek,” he started, then stopped, unsure of how to continue from there.

Derek closed his eyes, leaning back against the car. “Just don’t.”

Scott shook his head. “It’s been seven years. _You_ left seven years ago. How the hell-“

“Scott-“

“No,” Scott said firmly. “You’re still in love with him?! Seriously? Seven years and you still-“ Scott’s voice grew softer and his eyes grew sadder. “You still look at him like you did when we were eighteen and you were inseparable,” he realized.

Derek gritted his teeth. “Leaving was never about not loving him.”

Scott tilted his head. “Then what was it about?”

“It was about loving him too much,” Derek whispered hoarsely. 

Scott gave him an incredulous look. “What does that even _mean_? That is such a bullshit line-“

“I left because I had to. You don’t get to pass judgment on me for that,” Derek argued quietly. “I did what I had to. That doesn’t mean it hasn’t hurt.”

Scott deflated some, looking him over. “What’s happened to you, Derek?” he asked. “Stiles was right. You’re just… empty.”

Derek snorted weakly. “Being an omega does that,” he said, then ran a hand over his head. “Alright, Stiles is going home tomorrow, right? What do we have to do? Obviously he’ll know I don’t live there.”

Scott nodded. “We need you to put stuff around the house. You brought a bag right? We can hang all your clothes in the closet. If we have to, we can pool together some stuff we all have that seems ‘Derek’ enough to put around his house.”

Derek sighed, thinking carefully. “That can work. Also, we need to find a canvas and paints so I can throw something together tonight. I told him I was at home painting, so I need to make it look like I was.”

“Good idea,” Scott said, then pulled out his phone. “We’ll get stuff together. I’m texting you the address. John will meet you there with the keys.” He looked up as he started back to the hospital. “Go get set up as best you can, we’ll get stuff together to help out.” Derek climbed into his rental and laid his head on the steering wheel. This was all too much for him and yet he knew he couldn’t turn back now. 

He wouldn’t even if he could. 

~

Derek met John in front of the small house. He was surprised. Stiles didn’t strike him as the house kind of person. When he walked up on the small porch, John handed him the keys with a tight smile. “Thanks for doing this, Derek,” he said, rubbing at his neck awkwardly. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you but… well.” He cringed. “We couldn’t lie to him enough to make him stop asking for you and-“ He steeled himself some. “And I wasn’t going to let him suffer permanent damage without asking Scott to try and find you. I’m sorry. I really am. But he’s my son,” he said and Derek nodded.

“I understand,” he said simply.

John’s smile softened some. “You always were a good kid, Derek. Rough hand you got dealt, but in the end, you’re a good man. Thank you.”

Derek nodded, then looked down. “He would’ve done the same for me,” he muttered and John nodded because they both knew it was true. Stiles was self-sacrificing. He’d have done the same for Derek if it were the other way around. It was one of the main reasons Derek knew he couldn’t say no, no matter what.

John gestured to the door. “I’ll help you get yourself oriented around the house,” he offered, and Derek unlocked the door, pushing it open. They walked into a living room. There was a door to a kitchen to the left and a hallway leading to three doors straight ahead. “Living room, kitchen,” John pointed out, then walked forward. “Bedroom,” he said, pointing at the door to the right. “Bathroom,” he offered gesturing to the door at the end of the hall, before turning to the left. “Office. Mostly cluttered with books and stuff from college. You can probably move his desk a little to one side and set up the art stuff so he won’t be suspicious.”

Derek looked into the small office and hummed. It would be tight but he could put Stiles’s stuff on one side and whatever art supplies they found for him on the other, making it look like a shared space. He nodded as he turned back. “Looks good enough. Let me go get my bag and see what all I have then call Scott and see what they’re able to contribute,” he said, leaving to head out to his car.

It was almost painful how awkward it _wasn’t_. In spite of their rough start, both with his arrests and with John finding out about him and Stiles being more than friends before Stiles turned eighteen and grounding Stiles until he _was_ eighteen (longest two months of Derek’s life, it had seemed), Derek and John had got along surprisingly well. Stiles had said it was alarming how well Derek and John got along when they stopped treating each other like threats, but Derek knew that Stiles had secretly called them ‘his men’ because of how much they bonded over being the targets of Stiles’s nurturing and caring instincts. 

As Derek got his suitcase from the car, he couldn’t help but think it would’ve been easier, almost, if John had resented Derek instead of felt sympathy for him.

When Derek got back inside, he found John in the bedroom, shoving things in the closet to one side to make room for Derek’s things. “Hope you have enough clothes to make it at least look like you semi-live here,” John said. “Stiles has a lot of clothes so the more the better.”

Derek dropped his suitcase on the bed and opened it. “Well… I’ve got some?” he said awkwardly. He looked at Stiles’s clothes hung up, then at some of the clothes strewn around the room and got an idea. “Help me find plain tee shirts of his,” he said, looking around for dirty and clean clothes alike. 

John raised an eyebrow but helped. “I’m pretty sure he’ll notice if ‘your clothes’ are too small-“

“Stiles wears kinda baggy clothes and I wear tight, so it’ll pass temporarily as long as I remember not to put any of it on,” Derek explained. 

John hummed. “Good enough, I guess,” he said, then stepped back from the closet. “You do this, I’m gonna go look around and see what all could be passed off as yours,” he said, leaving the bedroom.

When John was gone, Derek went about his task of hanging his clothes in the closet and stuffing some of his things into the drawer he emptied in the dresser. His fingers hit something cool and smooth and he frowned, shuffling the socks – all lurid colors, unsurprisingly – to the side, only to still when he found the object. He picked up the smooth, dark, bluish-gray stone and turned it over in his hand, trying to work out what it was about it that felt so familiar. He knew he had seen something like it before, he just couldn’t think of what. He cast his mind back to all the times he had seen a stone like this – smoothed from being in water and rolling along in the current – only to freeze when it hit him.

The lake. 

Derek looked at the stone with a blank expression as emotions fought each other for the front and center position of Derek’s mind. 

Anxiety. 

Fear. 

Loss. 

Pain. 

Nostalgia. 

A faint, terrifying undercurrent of happiness and _love._

Derek close his fingers around the rock and closed his eyes, leaning against the dresser heavily, head bowed as he remembered exactly where the stone came from. He could remember Stiles texting him that he’d told his dad he was staying with Scott all day and night and immediately replying for Stiles to meet him in the Preserve. They had only been something more than friends for a short while, a matter of weeks, really. A few weeks of tentative emotions, sneaked kisses, a few frantic make outs in Stiles’s jeep, and more quiet nights sitting around watching movies or doing research together on Stiles’s laptop with nothing more than almost bashful handholding on the couch between them. They couldn’t really go on dates – what with Derek still publically viewed as an outlaw and Stiles the Sheriff’s son – and neither of them were really sure of whatever was going on between them anyways. They weren’t just friends. They had known that it was more. Looking back, Derek was pretty sure he knew then that he loved Stiles, but neither of them were anywhere near ready to say it. 

What had been planned to be just a camping trip, just walking into the forest and setting up a tent to sleep in, so that they could spend time together without interference, ended up being the beginning of something neither of them had ever saw coming. They had hiked to the lake, far beyond most campers spots of choice, and spent most of the afternoon skipping rocks and wading in the shallows looking at fish and threatening to push one another in. It had been the first day since his family died, really, that he had laughed and smiled more than anything else. Whatever he had thought was going on between them before that day, he knew by the end of that afternoon that Stiles was something different than anything he could’ve expected.

That night, they had curled up to look at the stars far enough from their fire that they could see the stars never seem to end, but close enough it wouldn’t get out of hand and light their tent on fire or something. Neither of them had intended for huddling together and a few kisses to turn into something _more_. Derek had known good and well that Stiles was seventeen and he was twenty-three, and before that night, he hadn’t intended to break the law. But he also figured Stiles hadn’t gone out there that night expecting his first time to be so cheesy and romantic as curled up together on a blanket under the stars. Afterwards, they had both laughed almost to the point of tears over how cliché it was of them. When they would finally stop laughing, someone would snicker or snort and it would start it all over again. It hadn’t been awkward, it hadn’t been uncomfortably silent after, but instead it had gone directly back to a comfortable contentedness between them after the afterglow had worn off. They had got dressed again and went to sleep in their tent, both more than aware that the ease of their relationship and the comfort they felt with each other was a sign of something more than either of them had ever planned on blossoming between them. 

As Derek stared down at the rock in his hand, it was like someone had hooked something behind his navel and jerked. He had erased that memory. He had forgot their first time. He had forgot how perfect that entire day had been. Derek had quashed all of the traitorous longings for that happy time in his life and shut the door on the ‘Stiles’ chapter long ago. But the stone in his hand wasn’t just proof that it happened, proof that he couldn’t fully make that wonderful day go away.

It was also proof that Stiles hadn’t _wanted_ it to. 

The stone had been hidden somewhere nobody would look for it. And even if they had, nobody would’ve known what it was. Derek stumbled to sit on the edge of the bed, examining the stone in his hands with a uneasy contemplation of how many times Stiles had taken it out and remembered just as Derek was now. Derek wondered if it had ripped Stiles apart the same way it was doing Derek.

But _why_ had he wanted to remember? Derek couldn’t understand why Stiles would keep that one memento. Sure, it had been his first time, so maybe that held significance to him, but Stiles hadn’t acted like it was a thought to him. Their first time was only something they even thought about because it had been so unexpected and cheesy. Where were the other reminders? Why was the stone the only thing in the drawer. It had been seven years, surely somewhere in there, there had been someone who mattered. Someone who wasn’t a cradle robbing ex-murder suspect. Someone who had meant enough to Stiles to warrant being remembered just like Derek. 

“ _Why_ is it here, though?” Derek muttered, putting his face in his hands as he fought the waves of emotions – ranging from the urge to cry to the urge to vomit – while still holding the stone in his clenched fist. 

“Pardon?” John asked behind him and Derek looked up, curling his hand around the stone better. “Didn’t hear, sorry,” John said as he wandered in.

Derek sighed, then shook his head. “Nothing, just thinking.”

John nodded skeptically. “Alright, well, Scott should be here soon with the art stuff. Let’s try and finish this up,” he said and Derek nodded, going to join him.

He returned the stone to its rightful spot. As much as he wanted to know _why_ , it wasn’t his place to move it away from where Stiles had wanted it. 

~

Derek and John did what they could to make it look like there was two of everything in the house – with the help of some of the others bringing extra dishes and various things – so that Stiles wouldn’t get suspicious. Derek familiarized himself with where everything was in the house quickly, and then went to move around the desk and bookcase in Stiles’s office. Scott helped him set up the easel and canvas they had picked up for him and then left him alone so he could paint something to make his excuse for ‘staying home’ seem legitimate. John left with the others to give Derek space, but it was pretty hard for Derek to come up with an idea of what to paint. 

It didn’t have to be anything special, he knew that, but for some reason nothing was popping into his head at all. Not even something boring like a tree. He cast around for something, anything, to paint. His eyes landed on a picture on Stiles’s desk. He walked over and picked up the frame. It was a photo of who he could only assume was Stiles’s mother. In all the years he knew Stiles back then, he heard about her a fair amount, but he had never seen her. John’s house hadn’t had any pictures of her on display. Stiles had explained once that John had still been barely able to talk about her, even though by the time they started dating, Stiles’s mother had been gone for ten years. Stiles must have dug out photos of her when he left for college, Derek figured. 

He sat heavily in the chair, looking at the photo. “So you’re Claudia Stilinski,” Derek muttered to himself, smiling faintly as he saw big, warm brown eyes smiling up at him from the photo. “At least I know why he’s so beautiful now,” he spoke out loud to himself. He caught his own faint reflection in the glass of the photo and was struck with a thought he hadn’t had in a very long time. “Looks like his mom, same as me.” He bit back a pang and he sat the photo back on the desk, leaning his elbows on the desk. He looked over at the empty canvas and realized immediately what he was going to paint.

~

Derek hadn’t slept at all when he got out of the car at the hospital. He had spent all night painting. He had only meant to do something simple to cover his story, but when he started, he couldn’t ignore a single detail. He had to get _everything_ exact. As a result, there was paint on his wrists and around his nails where he hadn’t washed his hands that thoroughly when he saw the sun coming up and knew he had to get to the hospital. Stiles was getting out today. If Derek thought it was tough yesterday, today was the start of a real challenge. He had to take Stiles home and spend days, probably weeks, with him. Alone most of the time, even. It was going to be the real test of his strength. 

Derek was greeted by John waiting for him. “Morning, Sheriff,” he said and John nodded.

“You ready?” he asked and Derek force a tight smile.

“As I’ll ever be.” He followed John down the hall until they reached Stiles’s room. Before they got to it,, the door opened and they were met with the sight of Scott wheeling Stiles out in a wheelchair.

“This is really stupid, for the record,” Stiles said and Melissa followed them out with a bag of Stiles’s things. “I can _walk_ -“

“And it’s hospital policy to push you out so you don’t fall and break a leg and sue us,” she said, winking at John. “You should know this by now. You’ve been in here enough.”

Stiles gave her a pointed look. “I don’t _remember_ that though, so I think I’m entitled to complaining,” he countered, then lit up when he saw his dad and Derek. “Hey you two. Here to bust me out?”

“Sure are,” John said, and Derek nodded. He looked at Melissa “What are the rules?”

Melissa gave Stiles a pointed look. “The usual. _Rest_. No driving, no going out unless it’s necessary, no strenuous exercise, pretty much sit on your butt and heal, Stiles.”

Stiles sighed. “Fine, fine.” He batted his eyelashes at Derek. “So this means I get waited on hand and foot, right?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You can walk around the house, I’m pretty sure,” he said and Stiles scoffed.

“Yeah right, like you’ll let me. I know how it is. ‘Test’ for Stiles means ‘sit here and don’t move’,” he said, sighing. “I’m gonna be so bored.”

“Yep, probably,” Derek said and Stiles gave him a small grin. 

Stiles turned to Scott over his shoulder, then pointed at the hall. “Alright then, onward! Mush!” he said and Scott cracked up, not even bothering to be offended instead of amused. Derek watched with an almost detached sense of longing. All these years and Scott and Stiles were still like the same sixteen year olds he’d found bumbling around in the woods. At least he hoped so. He hoped that Stiles pre-amnesia wasn’t any different. He hoped that Stiles was just as happy with Scott in normal life as he was with amnesia right now. He wished Stiles would’ve chosen a different life all those years ago, but Derek wasn’t bitter enough to wish anything but the best for Stiles in the life he’d built. 

He just hated having to suddenly be part of it. 

Melissa caught his arm when he started to follow Scott and Stiles and eyed him with a small smile. “You gonna be okay with this?” she asked one last time.

Derek nodded, forcing a smile. “I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle it.”

She nodded and squeezed his arm comfortingly. “Good luck, Sweetie,” she said as she released him.

Derek took a breath and then followed the other two as they headed to leave the hospital. Once they were gone, it was all on Derek. And man if that wasn’t a scary thought.

~

As Derek watched the door close behind Scott as he left, he couldn’t help but be somewhat lost. He turned back to Stiles, who was lounging on the couch and he wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to say or do. They were _alone_. He had to fake like everything was fine between them. Like they had been together for eight years. Like they were a ‘forever’ couple that had no awkwardness between them. He walked over and leaned over the couch, putting his best ‘acting’ skills to use. “Hey, are you hungry? I can make you something,” he offered and Stiles gave him a warm, loving smile that made Derek’s heart skip a beat.

“Awww, you’re the sweetest,” Stiles said with a fond look. “Sure. I’m going to go get a shower, though. I probably smell like hospital,” he said, and Derek nodded, turning to head to the kitchen.

“Alright, just call if you need something. Don’t fall and hit your head and make things worse,” Derek said, earning a dry laugh as Stiles rolled his eyes at him.

“You have a small clumsy phase and you never live it down,” he muttered on his way down the short hallway.

Derek busied himself, hoping he knew well enough where everything was to cook something simple. He figured grilled cheese and soup was easy enough to not have to go looking for things, so he set to cooking that, since he could. He tried to think about all the things Stiles wouldn’t notice him not doing correctly or knowing the details of since he didn’t know this was his house anyhow. He figured if he had put his clothes on ‘Stiles’s side of the closet’, there wouldn’t be any way Stiles would know. If he slept on the wrong side of the bed, Stiles wouldn’t know.

Derek nearly dropped his skillet when he realized what he had overlooked- he and Stiles would be _sharing a bed_. What if Stiles expected them to have sex? Derek wasn’t sure how he would be able to convincingly get out of sleeping with Stiles if Stiles wanted to without breaking their lie. If they had been together for eight years, the next couple of weeks would be a bit long to not have sex for two men still as young as they were. He knew he would have to find some way to avoid the issue altogether. Derek couldn’t sleep with Stiles. It was _wrong_. Stiles didn’t know better. He didn’t know they weren’t together. He didn’t understand that the ‘real’, fully aware Stiles wouldn’t want it. 

As much as the idea of having Stiles in his arms again pulled at Derek’s heart, it was one thing that could never happen. 

Derek was pulled from his musings while mechanically making sandwiches and heating up soup by the sound of footsteps in the bedroom. He heard Stiles walking around for a while followed by the sounds of Stiles coming out into the hall. Derek was prepared for Stiles to come into the room, but when he glanced back he was _not_ prepared for the sight of Stiles in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else.

“Mmm, smells good,” Stiles said as he crossed the kitchen. He looked around Derek, making a pleased little sound. “Awww, aren’t you the best little house-husband,” he teased.

Derek swallowed back a strained sound as he watched a leftover drop of water slide from Stiles’s hair, down his neck, before finally coming to a stop just above his collarbone. “Aren’t you cold?” Derek suggested, fighting to control the part of himself that wanted to openly stare at every inch of Stiles’s naked torso. He had really grown into his body even more than he had by eighteen. His body was still long and lean, but even after he started to lose his gangly shape near adulthood, he had grown even more into his shoulders and chest since. There was even a smattering of hairs on his chest now to match his arms and the trail leading down from his belly button to the waistband of his pants.

Stiles shrugged. “Not really, the shower was hot,” he said, leaning back against the counter. “So, how long ‘til the food’s done?” he asked with a look of mild interest.

Derek looked back and flipped the sandwiches, cringing when he saw they were a little darker than he necessarily wanted. “Just a few minutes.”

Stiles nodded, hopping up on the counter. “This is so weird,” he mumbled, looking around. “I have no memory of this place at all, but it’s _our home_ ,” he said, chuckling. “Man, I still can’t get around that,” he added, glancing at Derek. “We really made it. All my fears that you’d wise up and find someone better, and I’m sitting in the house we live in _together_. We have a real, grown-up life together.” He blinked. “Oh my God, wait, you’re _old_ now, aren’t you?!”

Derek gave him an offended huff, frowning at him some. “I’m not _old_ -“

“How old _are you_?” Stiles asked, nose scrunched up. “I’ve got to be like twenty…four? Five?”

Derek sighed. “You’re twenty-five, and I’m thirty-one-“

“SEE! You’re in your _thirties_!” Stiles stressed. “Oh my God, I’m still young enough to be considered a ‘kid’ but you’re a legitimate ‘grown up’.”

Derek shrugged. “You’re the one with a degree and a career,” he countered, and Stiles grinned.

“Dude, that’s so true.” He sighed. “I have a _degree_. From Berkeley!” He kicked his feet happily. “I bet my dad is so proud of me,” he mused.

Derek faltered slightly, eyes turning to Stiles. “Why wouldn’t he be?” he asked in confusion.

Stiles gave him an off smile and shrugged. “I just… I know he thought you would hold me back,” he said simply. “He never said it, but I think he thought I was going to give up on college and stay here. Maybe get a two-year at the community college.” 

Derek swallowed suddenly. “Why would he think that? You talked about college all the time when we first got together.”

“Actually,” Stiles started, picking at the sweatpants he was wearing. “One of the reasons I hadn’t talked about Berkeley yet as far as I can remember is that I wasn’t sure I was going to go.” He looked up at Derek with a small smile. “I didn’t want to leave. It wasn’t _just_ you, it was my dad and Scott, too. But I just…” He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure I could take leaving everyone I loved. You know me, I don’t make friends. Before Scott got bit, we were _it_ for each other. I was terrified of the idea of going somewhere I didn’t know anybody and was too far away to come home to my dad after class. It’s not too far, but it’s still a ‘maybe on the weekends’ trip to Berkeley. And I knew you couldn’t come with me. I knew that you- you had to stay here for the pack.” He gave a sheepish smile. “I didn’t want to miss you that much. I was still really considering somewhere closer. I was thinking about just doing something online maybe. I wanted to stay here with my men, you know?” he said, and Derek’s heart skipped a beat at ‘my men’. He hadn’t heard that one in a long time.

Derek looked back as he scooped up the sandwiches and plated them. “You were really thinking about not going to _Berkeley_?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, I guess I must’ve realized Danny was going too and thought it wasn’t so bad if I had someone there with me. Is that why?” he asked Derek, who nodded.

“I think so. I mean, you didn’t seem at all like you were going to change your mind when you told us,” he lied. He placed the sandwiches beside Stiles’s hip and turned to get bowls for the soup. “It wasn’t easy,” he said, remembering Scott’s cover story. “We had some problems. I was jealous so easily with you so far away and there were temptations in college for you, so it was rough for us.”

Stiles gaped. “I didn’t- I wouldn’t have-“

Derek covered quickly. “No, you never cheated on me,” he said quickly. “It was just hard sometimes to remember why you couldn’t have fun. We talked about it after we stopped fighting from a distance, and we worked it out, but by the time you graduated, I didn’t trust you anymore and you weren’t sure you really wanted to be with me anymore. But when we decided to take the risk that it wouldn’t work and _try_ , we moved in together here, and that helped a lot of our problems because we were able to be happy we had each other and couldn’t lie to each other anymore.”

Stiles smiled warmly. “I’m really glad we stuck together. Clearly, it worked out for the best if we’re still here,” he said, taking the bowl Derek offered him. “Thanks.”

Derek smiled as convincingly as possible. “Welcome. Now go sit down, the counter isn’t for butts,” he chastised and Stiles poked his tongue out at him before sliding off the counter, grabbing a sandwich, then going over to the kitchen table, plopping down with a pointed eyebrow raise. Derek couldn’t help himself. “Good boy.”

Stiles glared. “Heyyyy, I make the dog jokes in this house, not you,” he teased, then smiled when Derek came to join him. “Overgrown puppy,” he muttered happily as Derek sat across from him.

After they finished eating, Stiles left to go take a nap, since he still wasn’t feeling one hundred percent. Derek was just finishing cleaning the dishes when he heard his name called from the hallway. “Derek?”

Derek wiped his hands and followed the sound of Stiles’s heart and found him not in the bedroom, but in the office. Derek hesitated in the doorway when he spied Stiles standing in front of the canvas. Stiles turned back to Derek with a frown. “Who is she?” he asked in a curious tone. “Did you do this while you weren’t at the hospital?”

Derek swallowed, then nodded. He had been too tired and distracted to really look at the painting from a distance earlier. As he looked at her face, he couldn’t help but feel something inside him clench down and tug, like he was going to implode. He hadn’t painted anyone other than Stiles, really, in his art. He didn’t paint portraits, he painted pieces. Body parts, objects, the occasional landscape or abstract, but _not_ portraits really. 

Stiles walked over a little closer, frowning and tilting his head before looking back at Derek, narrowing his eyes, then looking back. “She looks like you,” he mumbled before a small intake of breath told Derek he had thought it out. “Is that… is she-“

“My mom,” Derek said softly, voice hoarse. Everyone always said they looked alike. Cora looked a lot like her, too, but Derek had always been told as a kid that he looked just like Talia.

Stiles gave Derek a sad smile then turned back, his face softening as he examined the painting. “She’s beautiful.”

Derek swallowed hard, nodding. “She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Derek said, smiling sadly. “I’m a little biased, but she was amazing.” 

Stiles walked back to Derek, sliding his hand into Derek’s. “We’ve talked about your family before, but I’ve never seen them. I guess there aren’t many pictures huh?”

Derek shook his head. “There were a few of us kids in school event photos, but nothing else survived the fire.”

Stiles looked into Derek’s eyes. “What made you paint her now?” he asked curiously.

Derek didn’t bother lying. “I was looking at your mother and thought about how much you look like her, and I look like my mom did so I thought about her.”

Stiles frowned. “My mom? When did you…” He looked around the office quickly, eyes landing on the frame on the desk. He walked over and took the picture, turning it to himself. His eyes widened and he sat back against the side of the desk heavily. “Holy crap.”

Derek walked over. “Stiles? Are you okay?”

Stiles looked up with suspiciously wet eyes, biting his lip. “I haven’t looked at my mom in a long time, as far as I remember,” he said, looking down at the frame with a growing smile. “God, look at her.” He chuckled wetly, looking up as a tear streaked his cheek. “I do look like her, huh? I never really noticed it before.”

Derek nodded but eyed Stiles closely, brows furrowed. “You okay?”

Stiles nodded, then took the frame with him as he walked towards the doorway, eyes on Derek. “Come on, you look tired, too.” He caught Derek’s hand and Derek let Stiles lead him towards the bedroom. 

After they had both crawled into the bed, Stiles wiggled until his back was pressed to Derek’s front. Derek had to close his eyes against the overwhelming sensations of Stiles _everywhere_. All he could feel, all he could smell, all he could touch, and most of what he could see was all Stiles. Everything was Stiles and it was nearly too much. Stiles pulled Derek’s arm around him and Derek let him. He sat propped higher on the pillows, looking down at Stiles. Stiles was still holding the photo of his mom as he lay there. Derek wasn’t about to interrupt Stiles if he truly didn’t remember seeing his mother’s picture in a really long time. After a little while, Stiles spoke suddenly. “If you laugh, I’ll turn your fuzzy butt into a rug,” he threatened out of nowhere. It was the only warning Derek got before Stiles shifted until his head was on Derek’s shoulder and he held the photo out in front of him. “Mom, this is Derek,” he said and Derek’s breath caught. Stiles nudged his forehead against Derek’s jaw. “Say hi, Derek.”

Derek smiled tightly, fighting a wave of ridiculous affection for Stiles. “Hi, Mrs. Stilinski.”

Stiles smiled. “See? He looks rough, but he’s a sweet guy,” Stiles joked, fidgeting slightly. “Derek’s a great person, Mom. He has put up with so much from me for so long he deserves a medal.” He chuckled softly. “He’s believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. He takes care of me even when it’s my clumsiness that got me in trouble in the first place. He’s spent _eight years_ putting up with my crap, if you can believe it.” He stroked the frame absently. “Derek may be older than me, and maybe at the beginning he was too old for me really, but he’s understood me better than anybody else has in a really long time. He gets along with Dad, and Dad even likes him, if you can believe it. Crazy, right?” he asked in an amused tone. Stiles sighed softly, his breath wavering slightly. “I think you would really like him, Mom. If nothing else, you would like him because I love him and- and you always wanted what was best for me and my happiness.” Stiles’s voice wavered slightly. “And he is everything you could’ve wanted for me. He’s kind, and sweet when he wants to be, he’s funny and smart and- and he’s just as sarcastic as Dad is. He has the biggest heart just like you and for some stupid reason, he thought I deserved a space in it.” Derek couldn’t see Stile’s face well, but he could smell the fresh tears on his cheeks even if the bunch of his cheeks said he was smiling. “I know you would’ve loved him because you set my standards high for the title ‘amazing person’ and he’s _so_ amazing. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him, Mom. How cool is that?”

It took everything in Derek, every fiber of his being screaming out _If you lose control and he finds out the truth, it could ruin his brain forever!_ , for Derek to hold in the wolf inside of him howling out pitifully as the words _I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him_ crashed over him like waves of pure, unadulterated _pain_. Stiles believed it. Stiles really, truly believed that he and Derek were forever. Derek knew it was necessary but it almost felt cruel to lay with Stiles in his arms thinking that they were happy, that his life was everything he dreamed of, when Derek knew the truth. Derek knew that only a month after Stiles’s memories stopped, Stiles gave Derek a choice. Derek had chosen to leave.

And Stiles didn’t ask him to stay.

~

Derek was trying to read a book while Stiles looked over his and Danny’s business to see what all he did when Stiles called his name. “Derek? Can you come here for a minute?”

Derek sighed and put his book down. It wasn’t so bad; he was having trouble focusing when he was still fighting the part of himself that wanted to roll around in the Stiles-scented couch and make himself at home in the house that was already starting to smell like ‘them’. He got up and walked down the hall, turning into the office, stopping to lean on the door casing. “Yes, Stiles?”

Stiles looked up from where he was hunched over his laptop. “So I went to see what all art you sold and absolutely nothing comes up when I Google your name. What’s up with that?” he asked, making a scrunchy face of annoyance.

Derek bit back a smile at how adorable Stiles looked as he pushed his glasses up his nose – a new change for Derek, but not an unappreciated one – and he walked over. He circled the desk and leaned over Stiles, ignoring the warmth of Stiles’s body between his arms as he looked over his shoulder to type. “It’s not my name,” he said, typing and hitting enter before he stood up, waiting for the page to load.

Stiles took one look at the website and then looked up at Derek with a disbelievingly flat expression. “Miguel del Lobo? Seriously, Derek?”

Derek smirked. “Lobo means wolf.” He squatted down, reaching out to click on a link. “Here’s the photos from a gallery opening last fall. The ones with wolves on them are mine.”

Stiles scrolled through, humming. “So stereotypical. Werewolf painting wolves.” He turned to Derek with a smirk. “ _Miguel_ ,” he teased and Derek shrugged.

“I needed an alias quick. Miguel popped in my head and then why not be cheesy?” he muttered, eyes on the two howling wolves, one light and one dark, heads thrown back with the moon behind them, Stiles had stopped on. He smiled sadly and Stiles looked at the screen, then turned to Derek with a raised eyebrow. Derek sighed softly, looking away, unable to look Stiles in the eyes when he spoke. “Look at the title.”

Stiles scrolled a little further and his breath caught. “ _Forever Where The Moon Is Never Eclipsed_ ,” he read out loud. He looked over at Derek and bit his lip. “Erica and Boyd.” Derek nodded solemnly, looking back at the screen 

When he didn’t expect was for Stiles to turn in his chair and slide his arms around Derek’s neck, leaning in to hug him. Derek tensed for a moment, but then closed his eyes, reaching out with the hand that wasn’t holding onto the desk to steady him, curling his arm around Stiles in return. “You painted them after all this time?” Stiles asked and Derek nodded against his shoulder.

Derek ignored the tension between his shoulder blades as he spoke. “Because wherever they are, they’re together. They won’t ever be alone,” he said gruffly. Stiles’s breath hitched and he turned his head to kiss Derek’s jaw, stroking at his hair comfortingly. 

What Stiles didn’t hear was the implied _Like me_ that Derek’s brain tacked on at the end. 

~

Stiles slid up behind Derek at the sink, where he was washing dishes, and he curled his arms around him. “Come watch a movie with me,” Stiles said, laying his cheek against Derek’s shoulder.

Derek nodded. “Let me finish up,” he said, and Stiles nodded, stroking a hand across Derek’s middle. Derek tensed, holding his breath as Stiles walked out, before deflating, dropping the dish he had been washing as he put his head in his hands, ignoring the soapy water getting on his face. 

It had been a long time since anyone touched Derek. Stiles kept getting more and more tactile. Derek knew it was bound to happen – Stiles had no reason to not think he could touch Derek however much he wanted - but Derek wasn’t used to it. Truth be told, Peter slapping him on the back when he first arrived at the hospital had been the first time anyone had touched him in any way other than bumping into him on the subway since the last time he’d hugged Cora goodbye all those years ago. Having Stiles everywhere was hard, but the more he touched Derek, the more intimate his touches became. Thankfully, Stiles hadn’t tried to do anything sexual yet, but it wasn’t like touching his stomach or kissing his face was something just anyone did.

The last time someone had kissed Derek was in the third month he had been Brooklyn. Cora had stayed with him for a few months after they left, and in those months, she had encouraged him to go out and meet people. Much like Laura when he first lived in New York, Cora didn’t want Derek to sink into himself. She wanted him to be okay. He had been angry enough to follow her suggestion and he went out every other weekend looking for someone to go home with. He slept with men and women alike, trying his best to get Stiles out of his head. However, after the fifth person failed to distract him even _during_ sex, he got tired of feeling guilty the next morning and gave up. There were only so many times he could screw a random hook-up while trying and failing to not imagine Stiles’s face before it became too much. 

Derek had got used to being alone. He got used to talking out loud to himself because nobody was there to hear it. He got used to going weeks without any contact to humanity besides the corner store and takeout delivery people. He got used to not meeting people’s eyes when they looked at him because he didn’t want anyone to try and talk to him. And now Stiles was _everywhere_. Stiles spoke to him face to face, looking him in the eyes almost every time. Stiles touched him _constantly_. Even if they were sitting opposite each other on the table, Stiles slid his foot between Derek’s so that they had some point of contact. It was ridiculous, and _intimate_ , and it messed with Derek in ways he hadn’t expected. 

Because he _wasn’t_ bothered. 

It felt so natural to be with Stiles. At first, it had been awkward and painful, but he fell so quickly into a simple, comfortable routine. He cooked for Stiles, since Stiles wasn’t supposed to be standing for long periods of time still, in case he got dizzy. He washed dishes for the same reason. Stiles would read up on things going on in the world, asking Derek questions occasionally, and they would watch movies Stiles found that sounded interesting that he had ‘missed’. It was comfortable in a way that Derek had forgot existed. Something he hadn’t felt since Laura was alive. Because even if he could remember life with Stiles, but they never lived together, so he had never known _this_. It was the feeling of belonging that he couldn’t help but wish was real. 

Derek pulled himself together and finished up, leaving the kitchen to go join Stiles in the living room. He sat on the couch and Stiles immediately shifted to lean into his side, tucking himself under Derek’s arm. “What’re we watching?” Derek asked and Stiles smiled.

“Another superhero movie,” he said and Derek groaned. “Shut it, I missed like a dozen of them. Deal with it,” he joked, poking his tongue out at Derek before hitting play. While the previews played – stupid ‘non skippable’ parts of a DVD – Stiles turned to Derek, propping himself up with a hand on Derek’s leg. “Hey, so I had a question actually,” he started, tilting his head back to look Derek in the eyes. “I noticed, the Miguel del Lobo site, it says you’re based out of Brooklyn. What’s up with that? You live in California, that’s as far from Brooklyn as you can get in the continental US.”

Derek had to think quickly. He hadn’t expected Stiles to notice that, and he cursed his stupidity at that mistake. “Well,” he started, the words falling into place like pieces sliding into position on a chess board. “I used to live in Brooklyn, so it was the first place I thought of when it came to making up my fake artist personality. My agent is out of New York so stuff gets sent to her before it’s shipped. Made sense at the time.”

Stiles hummed and shrugged. “Makes sense. Smart thinking,” he said, then smirked. “Miguel.”

Derek sighed. “You’ll never let me live that down-“

“I’m shocked _Danny_ has let you live it down!” Stiles said with a laugh. “Oh yeah, speaking of Danny! He might come over so he can show me some stuff he’s did for work. I’m still out of the loop on our job but he wants me to keep up with what he’s done so that when my memory corrects itself, I’ve still got it there.”

Derek’s smile faltered slightly before he fixed a fake one back. It was like being doused with ice water to be reminded that, soon enough, Stiles’s memory would return. “Sounds good,” he forced out, turning to ‘focus’ on the TV when, in reality, he cared so much less about a superhero movie than he did about the much-needed reminder of how _all of this was fake_.

~

Instead of Danny coming over one day, Derek found himself being dragged into a coffee shop to meet with Danny. Stiles wasn’t allowed to drive, so Derek had to go with him. Stiles’s obvious ‘milking it for all it was worth’ routine meant he was also carrying Stiles’s bag with his laptop in it when they walked into the coffee shop. Stiles waved at Danny when they walked in with the hand that wasn’t curly holding Derek’s, their fingers laced together tightly. “Stiles!” Danny said brightly, standing up when they got there. Stiles let go of Derek to hug Danny, who pulled him in tight. “God, they didn’t want me to visit in case it overwhelmed you so I’m so glad to see you’re okay,” he stressed with a groan as he released him. His eyes strayed to Derek and Derek saw the suspicion in his gaze. “Derek.”

Derek nodded, meeting his gaze. “Danny.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow at the almost challenging look they were sharing before sliding his hand back into Derek’s. “So, hey, wanna sit with us or you wanna go get me and you some coffee?” Stiles asked Derek.

Derek broke their staring contest and smiled at Stiles. “Sure, you sit down,” he said, handing his bag over before stepping away, heading to the counter. He heard Danny call a small ‘Derek’ in a soft voice but he ignored it. It wasn’t until he looked up from wrestling his wallet out of his jacket pocket that he realized what Danny was trying to catch his attention for.

Isaac was standing behind the counter, staring at Derek with wide, startled eyes. Derek’s body refused to do anything but freeze as they stared at each other. He was vaguely aware of Danny loudly speaking to Stiles, clearly trying to keep Stiles from looking over at the two werewolves, but for the first time since he arrived, his mind wasn’t on Stiles. Derek hadn’t seen or spoken to his former beta since he left town, and here Isaac was right in front of him. 

It was Isaac who broke the silence. “Derek,” he said softly, and Derek nodded, swallowing hard.

“Hey, Isaac,” he said weakly. He cleared his throat. “I hadn’t even thought about it when Stiles directed me here, but Scott said you owned a coffee shop. I should’ve guessed. With the Danny thing,” he said awkwardly.

Isaac’s eyes cleared some and he smiled. “It’s really good to see you,” he said and Derek could _feel_ the truth in his words. No matter who was Isaac’s alpha now, Derek could still feel the connection between them. All the years apart, all those years as an omega, and it didn’t stop Derek from feeling _his_ beta’s connection to him when they were standing with only a counter between them. 

Derek nodded. “It really is,” he agreed. They were distracted by a loud laugh from Danny, Isaac glancing over. Derek cleared his throat, then leaned on the counter slightly. “So. Danny,” he prompted and Isaac looked back to him, a goofy smile on his face.

“I know, right? I never- who could’ve seen _that_ coming?” he asked, laughing brightly. “I mean-“ He blushed. “In high school I always kind of had a thing for him, but I was a nobody and then I was a werewolf and thought I was above the popular kids, but then I realized I was a dick for that and went back to just admiring from a distance. But then when he came back after college we just… I dunno.” He ducked his head, smiling bashfully as he peeked up through his curls. “It all fell into place. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said almost reverently as he glanced over at Danny and Stiles by the window. 

Derek smiled at the waves of happiness pouring off of Isaac. “I’m happy for you,” he said and Isaac gave him an almost startled look. Derek rolled his eyes. “Come on, no matter what, you were my first beta, I’ll always want you to be happy, Isaac.”

Isaac grinned. “I’ve really missed you,” he admitted and Derek felt almost choked up by his sincerity. He cleared his throat. “Right! So, coffee?” he asked and Derek nodded.

“Yeah, an Americano for me and… wait, what does Stiles drink?” he asked in a low voice.

Isaac made a face. “Literally a latte with almost every syrup we have,” he said, making a horrified face. “I tried it once, it’s terrifying. I almost passed out, that’s how bad. I think Danny was almost ready to call Scott I was so sick,” he said and Derek snorted.

“That sounds like Stiles,” he said, shaking his head.

Isaac lowered his voice, looking down as he rung Derek up. “How are you handling this? When I heard you were coming, I wanted to at least try and talk to you, but with Stiles and you faking this, it wasn’t possible really. I heard from Scott you were doing a good job pretending but it can’t be easy.”

Derek shrugged weakly, whispering his answer as he busied himself getting his card from his wallet. “It’s really tough sometimes, and at the beginning I could barely keep it together, but now that I’m getting used to it, it’s almost worse. It’s so hard to not imagine living this life for real,” he admitted. “It hurts to lie to him, too. He’s so… _happy_ because he thinks his life turned out as perfectly as he could’ve ever imagined and knowing that he’s going to remember soon and all of it will hit him and just- just crush that happiness.” He sighed. “He’s _Stiles_.”

Isaac scanned his card and handed it back, looking uncertainly at him. “Why though? I knew you would do it when Scott suggested it, because you’re too good to let Stiles suffer serious damage, but what does that mean, ‘He’s Stiles’?” he asked.

Derek gave him a pointed look. “You know what it means. I’m sure Scott mentioned it.”

Isaac blinked. “Shit, Scott wasn’t imagining that? You’re _still in love with him_?” he whispered feverishly. “Derek, it’s been _years_ -“

“Seven, and I’ve been an omega for all of them,” Derek answered. “It sucks. A lot. But if I wasn’t still so attached to my anchor I wouldn’t have been there to be called to come back.”

Isaac sobered. “Shit, that’s right. You’ve survived being an omega for- _God_ , Derek,” he breathed. He gave Derek a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry.”

Derek forced a smile and shook his head. “It’s not that surprising, if you think about it.” He nodded at the two by the window. “Think about yourself. Since high school, right?” He shrugged. “Werewolves… we’re pretty single-minded. After everything, Scott ended up marrying Allison. After never even thinking it would happen, you ended up with Danny.” He looked over and smiled sadly. “I gave up my chance, but it doesn’t make it just stop.”

Isaac looked at Danny. “I guess you’re not wrong.” He tapped the counter and turned back. “You can go sit down, I’ll bring your drinks,” he said, and Derek nodded leaving to go sit with Stiles and Danny to wait. 

When Isaac brought their drinks, he sat down beside Danny to join their conversation, leaving the counter unattended. He saw Stiles looking and grinned. “Between shifts. It’s usually dead around now so it’s just me until some teenagers start the next shift in twenty minutes.”

“It’s so cool you run a coffee shop. I bet that’s totally why Danny is dating you,” Stiles teased and Danny flipped him off. “Sorry, Danny Boy, you had your chance a long time ago, I’m a taken man now,” he joked, sliding his arm through Derek’s with a smile.

Derek noticed how Danny’s eyes narrowed before they flickered up to his, startling Derek slightly with the intensity of how angry Danny looked. Stiles clearly saw it too, but he didn’t say anything, just curled his hand into Derek’s palm, stroking his thumb along Derek’s knuckles sweetly. Isaac and Danny started talking back and forth to them and Derek paid attention until Stiles tensed beside him, his fingernails digging into Derek’s wrist painfully. Derek looked at him quickly and saw a ‘fish out of water’ expression on his face as he opened and closed his mouth a few times while staring out the window with something that could only be called ‘what the hell?!’ in his eyes. Derek was about to ask if he was okay when Stiles started slapping him on the arm frantically, still gazing out the window.

“Stiles, are you okay?” Danny asked quickly, looking at him. “Are you choking or something?”

Derek looked up and followed his gaze over Isaac’s shoulder and he froze. In the parking lot just beyond the window, Peter and Chris Argent had driven up sometime in the last minute and, at present, Peter was waiting at the front of the car for Chris to get to him, openly laughing at the way Chris had got his scarf stuck in the seatbelt. Danny and Isaac clearly were still trying to get Stiles to talk to them rather than just turning to see where he was looking, because by the time Isaac finally looked up at Derek and then turned to look and see what was going on, Chris had reached Peter and was allowing Peter to put his scarf on him again. It wasn’t until Peter used his hold on the scarf to pull Chris into a kiss right there, pretty much four feet and a sheet of glass away from them, that Stiles finally stopped doing his best impression of a choking victim and burst out laughing. 

Derek panicked for a second, worried about what the stress from _that_ reveal might do to Stiles, but instead of freak out, Stiles turned and hid his laughter in Derek’s upper arm. Isaac and Danny were both frozen, clearly worried about Stiles like Derek was, but Derek simply raised an eyebrow at Stiles until he sat back, wiping at his eyes with a look like Christmas had come early. “You okay?” Derek asked and Stiles groaned, rubbing at his stomach as he grinned deviously at Derek. 

“Something you forgot to tell me?” he asked, and Derek glanced at the others, all three of them sharing sheepish looks.

“Well, Scott worried the emotional trauma might make you get worse-“

“Trauma?!” Stiles asked, scoffing. “Oh God, it’s like everything in my life has led up to this moment. This is funnier than the funniest thing I’ve _ever imagined_!” he stressed. “Holy shit, the _irony_ of Peter Hale and Chris Argent _dating_ -“

“Married actually,” a voice said from the door and they all turned to see Peter walking through the door Chris held open. Peter smirked. “Sorry if the shock’s too much. Didn’t know you would be here, Stiles.” Peter said and Stiles just sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“Funniest. Shit. Ever,” he said, then smiled brightly. “And it’s actually kind of cute!” he said and Derek gave him a clearly grossed out look. “Shut up, they are! They’re all adorable and ‘public smoochin’ phase’ and stuff.”

Peter shrugged, sitting down at the table next to them. “Well we haven’t even been married a full year yet, as you’ll remember before too long, we’re allowed.”

Chris sat down just as Stiles smirked at Peter. “Hey, it’s totally cool, old people being romantic is freaking _adorable_ ,” he said and Derek actually had to cover his immature snickers with a cough.

Peter’s smile slipped into a scowl. “ _Old people_?” he asked flatly and Stiles grinned. “For the record, I’m not _old_.”

Stiles scoffed. “Yeah right, and I’m an owl,” he said with a pointed eye roll.

Peter huffed. “I’m only _eight_ years older than Derek-“

“No good, he’s already called me old,” Derek informed Peter, who shot Stiles a glare.

Stiles shrugged. “Hey, I’m still young enough to be called ‘that kid’. Derek’s a legit ‘grown up’. He’s old. As you can see, I don’t blame you a bit for dating an old dude! We’ve got that in common,” he said, and Chris gave Stiles a narrow-eyed look.

Derek shrugged. “C’mon, if I’m ‘old’ at thirty-one, there’s no escaping it in your forties,” he said and Chris chuckled with an eye roll.

“Well at least I apparently _look_ younger,” he said to nobody in particular before looking at Derek. “I’m fifty-four, so thanks for saying I look ‘in my forties’,” he said and Stiles whistled.

“Wow, dude, Peter, you really _do_ like ‘em old, huh?” he asked and Derek bit back another snicker at the way Peter’s eye twitched slightly. “He’s totally old enough to be your dad if he had been a teen parent,” Stiles said before suddenly making a face, and Derek gave up and laughed openly at the flat looks both Chris and Peter gave Stiles.

Stiles at least had the decency to look sheepish before turning and sharing a wink with Derek, which only ended in them cracking up again.  
~

Derek was getting ready for bed when Stiles came out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in his mouth and a towel around his shoulders. He held up a box and Derek raised an eyebrow as he spoke. “Why the hell do we have a box of condoms? You cannot tell me we’ve been together eight years and we still use condoms instead of, at some point, getting tested,” he said, then frowned. “Wait, we only used condoms a few months before you got tested to prove to me that werewolves can’t have diseases when we first started dating, anyways.”

Derek stumbled over an explanation, putting it off by picking up his pillow and fluffing it a bit too long. “Well….” He turned back as an idea occurred. “Sometimes we don’t feel like bothering with the mess. Neither of us exactly love doing laundry and it’s easier than putting down a towel or something and hoping it stays put.”

Stiles gave him a slightly suspicious look. “Alright…” He shrugged. “Sounds really stupid, but whatever. Not like there’s any other plausible reason,” he muttered as he walked back into the bathroom. Derek deflated with relief then started to climb into bed, only to have Stiles come back, no longer with the towel or toothbrush, brandishing the condoms. “Actually no, I call bull, that makes no _sense_ ,” he said. “First off, this box isn’t open but it’s clearly not even close to new, there was dust on it. Why do we have condoms? Are they ‘just in case’ condoms? Have we had some sort of problems or something where the idea of _sleeping with other people_ was real enough we’ve got a box of condoms in our bathroom?” he asked, looking upset.

The words ‘emotional stress’ flashed across Derek’s thoughts and he jumped up. “Stiles, _no_ ,” he stressed, walking over to him. “I was telling you the truth, we just haven’t used any in a while.” He caught his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. He knew that it was a risk, but he was pretty sure Stiles wouldn’t notice a lie. “We haven’t had relationship problems since you came home from college, okay? I wouldn’t cheat on you and I know you wouldn’t cheat on me. And even if either of us were cheaters, why would we have the ‘just in case’ condoms in _our_ bathroom for the other to find?” he asked. He rubbed from his shoulders down to his elbows and back, smiling at him. “Stiles, don’t get upset, okay? You know what the doctor said.”

Stiles stared at him, searching his eyes for a while, before deflating. “I’m sorry, Derek,” he said, looking up with a slight blush. “I’m so sorry I ever accused-“

“Hey, it’s okay,” Derek soothed. “I’d overreact too, I bet. It’s kinda weird, but like I said, it’s not like it’s often we’re that lazy.” He wrinkled his nose. “Latex smells really, really gross so it takes being spectacularly lazy,” he said and Stiles snickered.

“I’d imagine,” he said, then reached up with his empty hand to cup Derek’s face. “I didn’t mean to doubt us. I’m sorry.” 

Derek felt guilty but nodded all the same. “It’s fine. Just come to bed, okay?” Stiles’s eyes twinkled slightly and he slid his arms around Derek’s neck, blindly dropping the condoms on the floor as he leaned in and kissed Derek. 

Derek froze for a moment because, so far, Derek had avoided kissing Stiles. He had kissed Derek’s face, and Derek had kissed his forehead, but Derek had been too afraid of how much it would _hurt_ to kiss Stiles after so long. He wasn’t wrong. As Stiles slid a hand into Derek’s hair, Derek’s hands clenched almost too tightly on Stiles’s middle. All he could smell was Stiles’s scent, all he could see was Stiles’s temple and hair, all he could feel was Stiles in his arms and touching his body, and all he could _taste_ was mint and the painfully familiar taste of _Stiles_. 

Derek took a shaky breath when Stiles broke to breathe, and when Stiles kissed him again, sucking on his bottom lip this time, Derek’s eyes fluttered shut and his body took over, giving in to the craving to touch, taste, and fill up on Stiles. Stiles moaned when Derek kissed him back, hands sliding along his long, lean back and that sound was like a hit of the best drug ever to Derek. Derek’s heart was pounding, his pulse was racing, and every fiber of his being screamed out for _more_. However, when Stiles tugged him into motion and backed towards the bed, Derek’s body was jolted out of its Stiles-induced high and his brain took over. “No, no, we can’t,” he said, pulling away from Stiles, who whined.

“What? Dereeeeek,” he whimpered, pouting up at him. “Are you kidding me?”

Derek fought the urge to give in and pulled away. “You heard Melissa. No ‘strenuous exercise’-“

“Then we can have slow sex, I can just lay there, seriously, it’s not a big deal-“

Derek shushed him with a finger over his lips. “You couldn’t just lay there if your life depended on it,” he said, smiling in amusement because it was true, as far as he remembered. “Sorry, Stiles, but we can’t.” Derek knew he would’ve said no even if Stiles was cleared for activity, but he had to sell it to Stiles so he leaned in and kissed him sweetly. “I promise, when you’re cleared for it, I will let you keep me in bed all day,” he said, fighting to ignore the squirmy feeling in his stomach that wished it was _true_.

Stiles huffed. “Your protective side sucks,” he said, then scoffed as he circled the bed to his side. “Actually no, that’s the problem, a lack of sucking,” he said and Derek couldn’t help but smile at Stiles’s pouty manner as they both climbed into bed. “I better get the orgasm of a lifetime after this-“

“Oh my God, this isn’t just sucky for you, stop talking,” Derek groaned a little over dramatically. “Sleep. Sleep is good,” he said, reaching out to put a hand over Stiles’s mouth.

Stiles bit at his hand, but then wiggled closer, flinging an arm across Derek’s chest and slotting a leg in between Derek’s. Derek wiggled closer, sighing when he sank into Stiles’s scent, making his wolf very happy to be immersed in almost nothing but laundry detergent and _Stiles_. Derek was on the edge of drifting off, faint tendrils of sleep just beginning to reach out for him, when Stiles spoke – whispered really – and broke the silence. “I love you, Derek.”

Derek tensed slightly, swallowing and forcing himself to relax, hoping Stiles didn’t notice it as anything but being startled away from the precipice of dream land. Stiles hadn’t said that so far. He had mentioned variations of ‘I love him’ or ‘the man I love’ but he hadn’t directly said to Derek those three words. Derek had to beat down the part of him that wanted to freak out and keep his breathing steady so that Stiles didn’t realize anything was wrong. He felt Stiles slowly tensing and almost panicked before he realized Stiles was waiting for him to say it back. Derek steeled himself, knowing that even if it was the truth, it was going to hurt, and then he spoke.

“I love you too, Stiles.” 

Stiles didn’t say anything else, so neither did Derek, but unlike before when sleep was starting to make itself known, it was long after Stiles happily drifted to sleep in the arms of the man he _thought_ he loved that Derek finally shut up the inner mayhem in his brain and found a restless, uneasy sleep waiting for him.

~

For all the times Derek imagined how the end of his visit would go, he always expected it would end in Stiles’s memory returning and Derek no longer being needed. He was prepared for the awkwardness of the lie he’d been living, and a seriously pissed of Stiles, but he hadn’t prepared for a heart-stopping panic to be involved. 

“Derek?” Derek looked up quickly, tensing at the sharpness in Stiles’s voice. “Derek, come here!”

Derek jumped up and rushed down the hall, worried Stiles was hurt. “Stiles? Stiles, what’s wrong?” he asked, frowning when he got to the office door and Stiles was just sitting at the desk. “You okay?”

Stiles looked up with a confused and afraid look on his face that made Derek’s heart leap into his throat and started up a mantra of ‘oh no’ over and over in his head. “Who the hell is Jason?” Stiles asked, and Derek frowned. He was drawing a blank.

Derek searched his thoughts quickly and shook his head. “I don’t know anybody named Jason-“

“Well apparently I do!” Stiles picked up his laptop and walked over to Derek, shoving it at him with a stricken look and green-tinged skin. “Jason, who is he?” he demanded, pointing a finger at the screen.

Derek took the laptop and balanced it, only to nearly drop it when he saw a photo of Stiles cheek to cheek with a blonde haired, brown eyed, bronzed skinned man on what looked like a dance floor, both of them smiling at the camera. Derek’s insides ached with a surge of jealousy that was only overrun by his panic as the leading emotion that overcame him. Stiles clicked and the next image was of Stiles and ‘Jason’ dancing close, their foreheads rested together. Stiles’s hand was curled around his partner’s neck. “Who. Is. Jason?!” Stiles gritted out, looking positively ill. 

“When was this?” Derek asked hollowly.

“Peter and Chris’s wedding!” Stiles snapped. “Last year I went to their wedding with someone who must be ‘Jason’ since the file says ‘Jason and Me’. Who is Jason? Why did I go to YOUR uncle’s wedding with someone named Jason and _dance with him_ and- and look at him that way?!” he asked, looking scared and confused. “You said I never cheated on you-“

“You didn’t-“

“THEN WHO IS JASON?!” Stiles cried, tears filling his eyes. He took the laptop back and sat it on the edge of the desk, scrolling frantically down the folder with shaking fingers. “You’re not in any of these pictures. Not just their wedding. _Nothing_! Derek, why aren’t you in any of my pictures?! Scott and Allison’s wedding, my twenty-first birthday party, Dad’s fifty-fifth birthday, NONE of the ‘Pack Christmas’ files-“ He turned around, tears slipping down his cheeks as his shoulders heaved. “Derek, where are you?! And don’t say you took all the pictures, because _everybody_ is in some of the photos besides you. _Jackson_ is in one of them and I haven’t even been told he came back to visit at some point!” Stiles’s shoulders heaved as a sob worked its way out of him. “What is going on, Derek? Why aren’t you in any pictures of my life? You- I _live_ with you! You’re here _every day_! You don’t go on business trips all the time, you work from home, I work from home or from Danny’s house, so what the hell?” he demanded. 

Derek held out a hand, guilt filling his lungs as if it was oxygen. “Stiles, just calm down-“

“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!” Stiles screeched, letting out a broken sob. “What’s happening? What- what the fuck is this? You- you’re the person I share a life with so why aren’t you _in it_?” Derek’s face must’ve shown his guilt and shame because Stiles slapped a hand over his mouth and backed away slightly. “No,” he moaned, dropping his hand. He shook his head. “No that- not everybody _lied_ to me. They wouldn’t- why would they-“ He began to hyperventilate. “Where were you? Where have you been? Why- why aren’t you- I thought that we- we- But I can’t-“ Stiles suddenly froze, turning ashen. “I can’t breathe,” he whispered and Derek didn’t even have time to react before Stiles crumpled to the floor.

“STILES!” Derek cried, diving for him, catching his head just before it hit the floor. “Stiles? Stiles, c’mon. No, no, no, don’t do this.” He pulled Stiles into his lap, tapping his face lightly. “No, no, c’mon, don’t you dare tell me you fainted.” He cursed. “God if I failed you again, I’ll never forgive you,” he panted, reaching into his back pocket for his phone, dialing Scott’s number.

“Stiles passed out,” he said in a rush before hanging up and dialing 9-1-1. 

~

Derek sat in the waiting room staring straight ahead. The others had all gone to see Stiles as soon as he woke up. Derek was tempted to just leave before things could get awkward, but he wanted to hear that Stiles was okay directly. Because if one thing he had said the whole time was true, it was that Derek still loved Stiles just as much as he ever had. He knew that before he agreed to come, but now he was just as sure as he could be, without any doubts, that he’d never stop. He knew Stiles would be _so_ angry, but he did what he had to to make sure that Stiles recovered. If he faced permanent damage now, nobody could say Derek didn’t _try_. 

Derek hoped to any god that might exist that Stiles was fine, though.

Derek was lost in his thoughts when the door at the end of the hall opened, so he didn’t notice. He did, however, notice John sitting down beside him. He immediately tensed, waiting for the news. John sighed, slouching in his seat. “He’s going to be fine,” he said without preamble.

Derek let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God,” he groaned, rubbing at his temples. “No permanent problems?” he asked hopefully and John shook his head, staring straight ahead.

“He’s fine. His memory is back, he’s not in any pain, and he seems… absolutely recovered.” John closed his eyes. “Overwhelmed, but recovered.”

Derek nodded. “Got what we hoped for, then,” he said softly. He looked down at the floor, and then, with his decision made, he stood up. He stepped past John, who looked up and spoke.

“Are you going to go see him?” John asked, and Derek stopped, turning back to look at John, who was searching his face for something.

Derek sighed and shook his head. “Probably best if I just go,” he said tightly. He swallowed and forced a weak smile. “I did my job. Now it’s time to get back to real life.”

John stood up and turned to face him. “Are you sure?” he asked, looking into Derek’s eyes. It was such an intense gaze that Derek wanted to turn away but it felt disrespectful to break it. “Derek, I don’t know what happened all those years ago. I don’t know why you left. But I know from the past couple of weeks that you still _fit_ here. You belong in Beacon Hills, Son.” He shook his head sadly. “Whatever you’re running from, you can stop, you know?” He closed his eyes with a weary expression that showed every minute of his fifty-nine years more heavily than ever before. “I know something happened between you and Stiles seven years ago. I don’t know if there’s any way to get past that-“

“John, I just can’t,” Derek started in a strained voice but John shook his head.

“I also know one last thing, and that is that, even though it was a lie for his amnesia, I haven’t seen my son smile the way he has the last two weeks in the past _seven years_.” He gave Derek an almost pleading look. “His smile hasn’t met his eyes in seven years. I haven’t seen my boy’s eyes look so _alive_ in _seven years_ , Derek. Isn’t there- isn’t there just some way you can stay here a few more weeks? Try to talk to him? Seven years is a long time. Anger fades, believe me.” He blinked hard. “I’m asking, as a father, that you just- just _try_.”

Derek took a few deep breaths, holding himself together, before shaking his head. “All of you know, just by the fact I came back, that I still love him, John. You know I would do _anything_ for Stiles. Coming back has proven that, drop everything for him. I would die for him in a heartbeat,” he said, then shook his head, head falling towards his chest. “But this trip has also proven that I made the right decision when I left.”

John sighed. “But I don’t _understand_ that, Derek.”

Derek gave him a sad smile, shrugging one shoulder weakly. “I’m not asking you to.” He cleared his throat and nodded to John. “Look after him for me, okay?”

John crossed his arms, smiling a bit tearfully at Derek. “Take care of yourself out there, huh?”

Derek smiled and nodded. “Will do, Sheriff.” It took everything in Derek not to look back as he left with the knowledge that he was walking away from the life he once had for good. 

~

Derek was going around Stiles’s house packing up his stuff with a bitter emptiness that grew with every clothing article or item he’d brought or bought that went into his bag. It was like he was carving out small pieces of his own heart with every piece of himself he was erasing from Stiles’s life. He planned to disappear just as seamlessly as if he’d never been there. He didn’t want to cause Stiles any more pain than he already had. It had been necessary pain at the time, but now he wanted to make this as easy for Stiles as he could. 

He went into the office to get the art supplies Scott had bought, but he hesitated when he looked at the easel that still held his mother’s portrait. He hadn’t painted anything else while he was taking care of Stiles – he had been too worried that immersing himself into art might make him inattentive - so it was still right there on the easel. He took it off the easel, holding it. He looked over at the frame of Stiles’s mother on the desk and put the painting back, leaving it in the corner as he backed away. He walked over and picked up Stiles’s mother’s photo and touched the glass lightly. “I’m sorry what Stiles told you didn’t turn out true,” he whispered. “But for what it’s worth, I really do hope you would’ve liked me.” He closed his eyes and returned the frame. 

He looked around and deemed the room cleared. He looked up at his mother’s face and smiled weakly. “Look out for him for me, okay, Mom?” He took a breath and then turned away, pulling the office door shut behind him, even though the door had remained open the whole time he was there. He went to the bedroom to make sure he had got all of his clothes and hadn’t taken any of Stiles’s clothes, only to be startled out of his search by the sound of the door opening and closing. He couldn’t imagine who it was. He finished making sure everything was in his bag and hefted it onto one shoulder, walking down the hall. He figured it must’ve been Scott coming to get something. He heard whoever it was standing still in the kitchen so he walked to the doorway to make sure they didn’t need something before he left, only to freeze when he saw who was standing at the table, reading the letter he had left.

“Stiles?” Derek asked in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Stiles’s shoulders were in a tight line as he stared the letter. “I’m fine so they let me go,” he muttered, then turned around, holding up the letter as his eyes searched out Derek’s. “Seriously? That’s it?” he asked sarcastically. He held up the sheet with a flourish and eyed it. “Stiles, sorry about everything. Glad you’re better. Derek.” He dropped it on the table and narrowed his eyes at Derek. “Seriously? That’s all you have to say?” he asked incredulously.

Derek sighed, closing his eyes. “What else could I say that needs saying?”

Stiles turned red with what Derek could only assume was near-rage levels of frustration. “You- You-“ He gritted his teeth and let out a growl. “What the fuck are you even doing here?!” he snarled.

Derek gave him a fully emotionless look. “You thought you were eighteen and they worried you would suffer permanent damage if you had to deal with major emotional stress. I was the first person you asked for, so telling you ‘Derek doesn’t live here anymore’ could’ve messed up your brain for life. What else could they do-“

“No,” Stiles snapped. “I get their reaction, but _why did you come_?!” he demanded. “I haven’t heard a _word_ from you since the day you left. Why the hell did you agree to come back?!” 

Derek looked up, eyes narrowing as the words made his shoulders tighten. “You really think I would’ve let you risk suffering permanent damage-“

“WHY DO YOU GIVE A SHIT?!” Stiles shouted. “You’re Derek-fucking-Hale! You fucking _flee_ from having to care-“

Derek cut him off by dropping his bag and stalking forward. “Don’t you dare,” he growled. “Do you think if I didn’t _care_ I would’ve flew back to Beacon Hills to fake it for _two weeks_!” He deflated, cringing against the pain. “Do you have any idea how _hard_ that was?” he asked tightly, mouth in a grim line. “Do you know how much I had to _suffer_ through this? Don’t you dare suggest I don’t care, because if I didn’t I wouldn’t have put myself through this-“

Stiles scoffed. “Yeah right, so _sorry_ to pull you from whatever perfect little life you’ve made for yourself, _Miguel_ ,” he spat. “I bet it was such a hardship, slumming it with your old pack instead of living it up with whatever new pack you built with Cora out in New York-“

“CORA IS DEAD!” Derek cried loudly, chest heaving as pain flushed through his body like a fever. Derek’s chest ached as Stiles’s _hatred_ rolled over him in waves and his own anger at Stiles’s guesses at things he knew _nothing_ about.

Stiles stopped, his face falling into a mask of cold shock. “W-what?”

Derek let his head fall, unable to hide his emotions when looking at Stiles. He had always failed at hiding his feelings from Stiles. “Cora has been dead for over five years. She and I moved to Brooklyn and, a few months after being there, she left and went to the pack she had been with before Deucalion got her. She- she went back and stayed and then a little over a year later her alpha called to tell me she had been killed in a car accident. I didn’t even get to bring her home to be buried with our family,” he choked out, looking up with tears in his eyes. “Don’t talk about shit you know nothing about, Stiles. There is no pack in New York. There’s no Cora. There’s _nothing_.” He shook his head. “I’ve been an omega for seven years, so don’t you dare speculate about my ‘perfect’ life I’m missing out on by ‘slumming’ it here.”

“Jesus _Christ_!” Stiles ran his hands over his head in shock. “An _omega_?! For seven YEARS?! Derek, what the _fuck_ were you thinking?” he demanded with wide, fearful eyes. “For the love of God, how aren’t you insane? How didn’t you go crazy and get killed? Why did you stay away if you had nothing there?! You had a pack here!”

Derek gave him a pointed glare. “You know good and damn well why I didn’t come back.”

“What, me?” Stiles spluttered in disbelief. “You hated me bad enough you would’ve rather been an omega-“

“Bullshit, Stiles!” Derek snapped. “Don’t you even try that. You _know_ why I left and you know why I stayed gone! Don’t pull that crap. I left for the same reason I came back.”

Stiles threw his hands up in frustration. “Derek, I have no freaking idea what you mean! _You_ left _me_ -“

“YOU TOLD ME TO GO!” Derek shouted, slamming a hand on the counter. “You looked me in the eyes and said, ‘leave’, and I _did_ -“

Stiles laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, because you didn’t want to let me make my own decision and become an Emissary! You said you ‘refused’ to watch me become Scott’s Emissary!”

“Yes,” Derek said, nodding. “And you gave me an _ultimatum_. You said, ‘You can suck it up and accept that I’m going to be his Emissary or you can leave’-“

“And you LEFT!” Stiles shouted accusingly. “You packed up your shit and _left_! I loved you more than _anything_ and you _left me_ , Derek! You actually left over something as flimsy of an excuse as me wanting to be Scott’s Emissary-“

“BECAUSE I COULDN’T BE THERE TO WATCH YOU DIE!” Derek shouted, hands clutching Stiles by the shoulders.

Derek’s roar brought them both to a halt. Derek looked shocked at himself and Stiles gaped as he stared Derek down, both of them pale and shaky as they breathed hard from all the shouting. Stiles trembled as he shook his head. “W-What?”

Derek deflated, dropping his arms. “Everyone I have _ever_ loved _died_ ,” Derek whispered weakly. “Everybody. Everybody that has ever mattered to me, everybody I ever cared about… they died.” He looked up with wet eyes. “Emissary’s are supposed to be neutral parties, but every pack has their own Emissary and that makes them the first target when things get bad between packs. Emissary’s have hard jobs. They do things nobody else can. They face dangers the pack never will have to.” He shook his head. “People die just for being around me. People die just because I love them. I lived the entire year we were together terrified that one day I wouldn’t be able to save you, Stiles,” he gritted out, jaw clenched. “And then you decided you wanted to be an _Emissary_.” He looked up and met Stiles’s eyes. “I left because I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t watch you die, too. I lost the first girl I loved, I lost my parents, I lost my uncle, I lost my big sister, I lost my _betas_ ,” he whimpered, a tear breaking free. “I couldn’t do it again, Stiles,” he said, shaking his head. “You wanted to be an Emissary and I knew I wouldn’t change your mind, so when you said ‘go’, I went.” He tilted his head and gave him a sad smile. “And you never asked me to stay.” He shrugged. “You wanted to be an Emissary more than you wanted me to stay and I cut my losses and _left_.” He looked away. “Being an omega is better than watching you die, Stiles.”

Stiles stared at Derek in cold shock as he walked over and picked up his bag. Stiles sniffled and let out a shaky breath. “Then why did you come back after all this time?” he croaked.

“The same reason I left.” Derek glanced over his shoulder, giving Stiles a weak smile. “Because I love you and I couldn’t deal with you dying.” 

Stiles’s ragged intake of breath was the last thing Derek heard as he turned and headed for the door, refusing to look back as he walked away from Stiles one last time. 

~

As Derek lay in the hotel room bed, cold and alone for the first time in two weeks, he couldn’t escape how bad it _hurt_. He had forgot from the first time how much of a physical ache it was to leave Stiles. The distance between them was like a rubber band stretched to its limit, straining and trying it’s best to snatch his heart clean from his chest. He rolled over and fought the memory of just the night before, the feeling of Stiles in his arms. It was like a limb was missing from his body after only two weeks sharing a bed.

They had never had that before. They had spent nights together, but most of the time, Stiles went home to his dad after they spent their day together or went out at night. Spending two weeks with Stiles, sharing a bed and a home, it was a taste of what he never got to have. For the first time since he had silenced the part of him that wanted to face that kind of hurt, Derek wondered if Stiles had ever found someone to share a home with. He wondered if Jason, the man from the photos, had lived with Stiles. Had he been in love with Jason? Derek assumed from the lack of unfamiliar scent that Jason hadn’t lived with Stiles in the last few months, at least, but it didn’t mean they hadn’t lived together before whatever ended their relationship happened.

What about in college? Had he and Danny been more than friends? They had left Beacon Hills together, gone to college, and come back to start a business together. Had they been together for that time before coming home made them realize they were better friends? Had Stiles ever met someone that he loved the same way he had loved Derek all those years ago? Maybe he had grown up and realized what he felt for Derek wasn’t the type of thing that lasted. Derek had always feared that the same way Stiles seemed to have feared Derek would get over him back then. Derek had been waiting for the day that Stiles would wake up and realize teenaged love wasn’t enough and Derek wasn’t what he wanted. Had Stiles found who he wanted and it fell apart? 

As much as those questions hurt, Derek dipped deeper into his suppressed questions and had to wonder if maybe, just maybe, Stiles had loved Derek back then just as much as Derek loved him. The thought that Derek had let fear drive him away from what could’ve been a long, happy, ‘grow old together’, once in a million relationship was worse than anything Derek could imagine. It was the one question he had never allowed himself to think about, because in the end, it would have driven him mad to think about. If there had been any way to _know_ that Stiles would be with him forever, Derek wasn’t sure he could’ve let his fear scare him away, no matter how bad he feared Stiles’s life as an Emissary. 

As he lay staring at the empty spot beside him, Derek couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that was the one question he should’ve asked himself seven years ago.

~

Derek looked at the road signs at the intersection as he pulled out of the hotel parking lot. Left and he would be headed towards the highway that would take him to Sacramento to the airport. Right and it would only be two hours back to Beacon Hills. A turn left and he could go back to his life. He could go back to New York and to solitude and to devoting himself to his art. He could spend the rest of his days painting until he grew too old to hold a paintbrush, never facing another painful loss or failure on his part ever again. He wouldn’t have to worry about anyone but himself and his agent. But if he turned right…

If Derek turned right, he could get the answer to the question he couldn’t stop asking after last night. The one question that he had locked away from his mind seven years ago. He could go back and flat out _ask_ Stiles why he didn’t try to get Derek to stay. He could ask him if he had really thought Derek was going to get over him when they were together. He could ask Stiles if he had ever imagined what their lives would be like if Derek hadn’t left. If Derek turned right, he risked answers he might not like, but he would at least stop wondering, no matter how bad the truth could hurt. Derek hesitated, hand reaching for the indicator of his rental. He knew that this was the only chance he would get to make this choice.

Derek turned right.

~

The steps to Stiles’s door were the longest Derek could remember ever taking in his life. He knocked and waited for a gut-wrenching moment before he heard Stiles coming towards the door. “Scott, I swear to God, I said I was _fine_!” The door was yanked open and Derek bit back an amused smile at the shock and embarrassment on Stiles’s face. He was terrified but nothing could stop how funny Stiles looked when he was surprised. He had a very expressive face even after all these years. “Derek… uh, what-“ He stopped and glanced back, then let out a soft sigh of relief. “Oh.” He turned and walked back inside and Derek hesitated before following him through the open door. Stiles floundered for a moment, turning back and tugging at his baggy hoodie awkwardly. “Um, you forgot your mom’s portrait, right?”

Derek bit his lip and shook his head. “No. That’s- that’s for you.”

Stiles frowned and glanced at the hall then turned back, crossing his arms. “Oh. Thank you,” he said softly, then looked down at his feet. “What- what is it then?”

Derek took a breath to gather his strength, then looked at Stiles, who was examining him almost fearfully. “I just- I have to know something, Stiles,” he said softly. He refused to give up after all of this so he steeled himself, gaze not wavering from Stiles’s eyes. “Did you love me?” he asked. “All those years ago, did you- did you really love me, do you think, or was it just- just teenage infatuation?”

Stiles flinched like Derek had _hit him_. He gave Derek an open mouthed, hurt stare. “How could you ask me that?” he whispered when he found his voice. His throat clicked when he shut his mouth and tried again. “How could you look me in the eyes and _ask_ that, Derek?”

Derek shook his head, opening his expression as much as he could, laying everything out for Stiles to see for once. “Because I have to know.” He took a breath. “When I left-“ He swallowed. “When you said to go and I left, you didn’t try to stop me and I thought- I convinced myself that if you had loved me the same way I loved you, you would’ve made me stop. You would’ve fought to keep me from leaving. I was too afraid to face watching you die, so I left and I was sure that you not coming after me was just proof that it wasn’t the same for me as it was for you.” He looked away, rolling his eyes. “I never thought too hard on it after I was gone because if I did, it would’ve driven me crazy, so I believed it.” He looked at Stiles, who was staring at him like Derek had physically hurt him. “But then this happened. And the first day, one of the first things you said to me was that you always thought I’d get tired of you and leave you and break your heart someday. And I didn’t think about it, I didn’t let myself, but last night-“ Derek swallowed hard. “Last night I kept comparing when I left to leaving now and I _asked myself_ all of those questions I ignored for so long. And this morning I woke up and realized I can’t do it again.” He shook his head. “I can’t leave for good without knowing for sure what you felt for me back then. I have to know.”

Stiles stared at him with a betrayed look in his eyes and his bottom lip clamped between his teeth. He shook his head and blinked a tear free. “You did leave me and you did break my heart, Derek.” He choked on a whimper. “I was eighteen years old and I was afraid that if I went off to college you would get bored of waiting and _leave_ , but instead you left me instead because of a stupid _fight_ ,” he whispered bitterly. “I didn’t try to stop you because I didn’t think you would really go, Derek.” He looked at him through wide, tear-filled amber eyes filled with so much pain it broke Derek’s heart. “Yes, I was afraid you would leave me some day, because I was the skinny little human, I was annoying and one day you would catch up with everybody else and realize that. But when you left, I never thought that day had _come_. I didn’t think you would leave after one fight. I had- I had my life dreamed out and for once in my life it wasn’t _alone_ ,” Stiles choked out weakly. “Derek… I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I wanted to be with you forever. I wanted to grow up and get married and have a family and I wanted to be Scott’s Emissary because how better than to prove that I was worth staying with than to be useful and _strong_. When you tried to make me _not_ be their Emissary, I was angry because I thought you would be proud of me and instead you reacted so badly that you tried to _tell me I couldn’t_.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want you to leave, Derek. I wanted- I wanted you to be proud of me because I was going to be _useful_.”

Derek shook his head, breath stuttering. “You were never weak, Stiles. You were _always_ the strongest person out of all of us. You being a normal human wasn’t a weakness. Being a human with human instincts was what made you _different_ than all of us. I was always proud of you because you were a better person than Scott or I would ever be.”

Stiles let out a weak sob. “Then why did you _leave me_? Do you have any idea what losing you did to me?”

Derek closed his eyes. “I left because I _knew_ what you dying would do to me, Stiles. It was easier to know you hated me than it would’ve been to watch you die-“

“I _wanted_ to die,” Stiles choked out, pointing down the hall. “When- When I remembered, I wanted to forget everything again because for two weeks I lived thinking I had grown up to have everything I ever wanted, and then I found pictures of myself with someone who wasn’t you and I realized I had grown up to a life without you in it and I _didn’t want it_.” He shook his head, rubbing tears off his face. “Last night I went to sleep alone after two weeks with you beside me and I wanted to just forget again. Because now I remember my life. I know everything that happened all seven years between you leaving and me forgetting you left, and _none of it_ was worth remembering and destroying the illusion of my perfect, happy life,” he gritted out. “When you left I was bitter. I was angry. I carried that bitterness with me when I went to college. Danny is the only reason I even _went_. He convinced me I was better than that and I took it to heart that I would prove I was better than what you made me feel like when you left. I fucked people you would never know about just to spite you, which was totally illogical but I didn’t give a shit, and even when I got tired of that, I couldn’t meet anybody because I kept expecting them to make me feel like you did,” Stiles spat angrily.

“I came home and I became Scott’s Emissary. I had my business with Danny and I spent my time doing both things. I met Jason at Isaac’s shop – fucking cliché, huh? – and he was great. He was funny and he was gorgeous and we were good together. Everybody liked him! My dad didn’t like him that much, but I think that’s because my dad could tell what everybody else couldn’t,” Stiles said with a humorless chuckle. “Danny kept telling me how happy he was for me and I wanted so badly to have somebody so when Jason suggested we move in together, we did. Scott wanted to let him in on the truth but I kept putting it off and nobody could get why but I knew why. We lived together for nearly _two years_ and I didn’t want to tell him about all the werewolf stuff because then he would be involved in every aspect of my life when I didn’t _love him_ even though he was the perfect man,” Stiles said bitterly. “Two years living with a man who had a good job, a great future ahead of him, who loved me and thought I was amazing, a man who was caring and considerate and everything I wanted so badly in college, the guy who could’ve been a _great_ guy to settle down and have a life with, that got along with all my friends, and me?” Stiles shrugged. “I didn’t love him. I couldn’t make myself love him. I couldn’t love the poor bastard. Didn’t know why, even.”

Derek’s pulse pounded in his ears and he both dreaded and anticipated what Stiles might say. “Why- why isn’t he here anymore?”

Stiles sighed, deflating some though he still looked absolutely shattered. “Because nearly a year ago Peter and Chris got married and within a week of watching the two most unlikely people I’d ever imagined together get married, I realized that if it was possible to love someone who murdered your sister, it’s possible to still be in love with the bastard that broke your heart six years after the fact,” he said, looking up at Derek with an utterly empty gaze. “I told Jason that I didn’t love him and asked him to leave because it wasn’t fair to lead him on when I knew that I’m never going to love anybody except-“ His breath hitched and tears filled his eye once more. “Except you.” He whimpered and bit his lip. “And I wasn’t wrong, Derek, because after everything - after seven _years_ of everything – I want to hate you for doing this to me. But you’re right there and I just want to _touch you_ so that I know you’re real.” Stiles let out a broken sob, putting his face in his hands. “ _Derek_.”

Nothing in the world could’ve stopped Derek as he closed the space between them and pulled Stiles into his arms. Stiles threw his arms around Derek and held him so tightly his nails ripped at Derek’s shirt. Stiles clung to him and sobbed openly, pressing his face into Derek’s neck. “It’s okay, Stiles, I promise, it’s okay.” Derek pressed his face into Stiles’s hair, clinging to him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry for everything,” he babbled, tears spilling down his cheeks as well. “ _Stiles_ -“

“I love you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything,” Stiles choked out, tears soaking into Derek’s shirt collar. “Please just- just stay. Please, Derek. Don’t leave me again. Please just stay.”

Derek gave up on trying to be strong and let them both slide to the floor, kneeling practically on top of one another, clinging desperately. “I promise, Stiles. I’m not going anywhere, I love you, I promise,” he whispered repetitively, rocking Stiles as they both cried. “It’s going to be okay, I love you so much, I promise, shhh, don’t cry-“ Stiles pulled back abruptly and took Derek’s face in his hands, cheeks smearing Derek’s tears as he leaned in and kissed him, whimpering against Derek’s lips when Derek didn’t even waste a second to kiss him back. 

As they clung to each other, kissing as desperately as their position suggested they were, they both knew that it wasn’t going to be easy. It wouldn’t just fall into place. They wouldn’t just slip into the life they both had lived incorrectly the last two weeks. The others wouldn’t accept the change so easily, Derek’s art career would have to change, and neither of them had any idea who the other had really become. But as Derek and Stiles held each other, clinging to the hope that things could one day be what they wanted it to be, both of them were unwilling to let the chance pass them by again.

They had made that mistake seven years before. It wasn’t one they were stupid enough to let happen again.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you need tissues? lol sorry!


End file.
